The Same Mistakes
by politiksandprose
Summary: "This is not up for discussion, Katniss. You two are spending the summer at Uncle Haymitch's, and that is it." In one summer, Peeta Mellark is able to turn Katniss Everdeen's world upside down. Set in present-day. AU.
1. Chapter 1

a/n: This is a random idea that came to me today during class and i decided to run with it. it's set in present-day so it's totally a/u. hope ya'll like it! this is loosely based off of Sarah Dessen's Keeping the Moon, though it'll be different. thank you "Searching for a Shooting Star" for reminding me!

****sorry for the extra emails, the second chapter is not ready yet i just had to correct something on this and had to reupload it!**

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, they belong 100% to the freaking amazing suzanne collins!

* * *

_On the other side of a street I knew_

_Stood a girl that looked like you_

_I guess thats deja vuBut I thought this can't be true_

_Cause you moved to west L.A or New York or Santa Fe_

_Or where ever to get away from me_

* * *

"Can you help me, Katniss?" Prim asked, her bright blue eyes staring at the duffel bag in front of her, a pile of shirts, colorful and bright sitting next to it. "I don't think I can fit anymore clothes in here." She said, struggling to close the bag as it was.

Katniss eyed her own duffel bag and the few shirts she'd tossed in it, all of them black and gray.

Packing was never too difficult for her; her wardrobe mainly consisted of jeans and t-shirts. And only just a few at that, compared to her baby sister.

"Bring those here" Katniss told her, nodding towards Prim's surplus of clothes.

She picked her pile of clothes up, clumsily dropping a few on the floor as she made her way from her own bed to Katniss', spreading them across her older sister's bed.

Katniss bent to the floor, picking up the clothes that had jumped ship during Prim's trek across their room and folded them, setting them next to the pile that Prim had just began to re-fold.

"You know, Katniss, we're going to Uncle Haymitch's house for a _whole _three months. I think you're going to need more clothes than that." Prim said, peeking into Katniss' bag, picking at the small pile of clothes Katniss had stuffed into the vinyl, beaten up bag.

Katniss smiled, the kind only her little sister could get out of her on most days, as she tucked Prim's pink shirt into her skirt, patting the front of her skirt down. Prim was twelve, only four years Katniss' junior, but was Katniss' _baby_ sister. She was innocent, and wholesome, and beautiful. "Don't worry, little duck. If I run out of my own, I'll just borrow some of your shirts."

Prim giggled, a dimple in her left cheek deepening as she showed her teeth. "Then maybe you'll wear some color! All you ever wear are boring colors!"

Katniss rolled her eyes, folding Prim's clothes as she packed them in her own bag.

She heard her door open, her mother's footsteps softly thudding until Katniss felt the mattress shift as the older lady took a seat on the mattress, adjacent to the duffel bag.

Katniss concentrated on the bag in front of her, folding and packing the rest of Prim's clothes as Prim padded towards their mother, climbing the bed to sit behind her.

With her small hands, little Prim gathered their mother's blonde hair, brushing out the knots before she separated her hair into three sections, beginning to twist the blonde strands into a beautiful French braid. It always made her mother look more like _her_ mother. Before everything happened. Before he left.

Katniss picked up another shirt, scrunching up her face as she took in the sequenced pink article of clothing. It was one of Prim's favorites, and it was clearly something Katniss could never imagine herself wearing. She'd leave the sequences and the pink to her little sister.

She felt her mother's hand cover her own, and she dropped the shirt she'd folded back onto the bed, her fingers reacting to the touch. She sighed, picking up the shirt again before glancing at her mother.

Prim and her mother looked alike; they both had electric blue eyes and hair so blonde it almost looked white in the sun. Katniss, on the other hand, with her dull gray eyes and sheening black her, had taken her looks from her father.

She slowly, begrudgingly lifted her eyes to her mother's sunken ones, her body rigid with irritation already.

"Have you finished packing?" Her mother asked, her voice raw and low the way it almost always was now.

Prim pulled a rubber band around the bottom of their mother's braid, setting it to the front before wrapping her arms around their mother's bony arms. "I don't want to go without you, mom." She complained, her voice laced with a sad whine.

Their mother patted Prim's hands gingerly, before turning to Katniss, repeating her words.

Katniss nodded her head, avoiding her mother's eyes. "Yes. But I still don't see why we have to go—"

Her mother shook her head wearily, as if she was already tired from the few words she'd shared in their conversation. "I've already told you, Katniss. I'm taking on extra shifts at the hospital, and I'm going to be helping with the new hospital they're building in New Orleans so I'll be travelling a bit and it's just better this way, if you're at Uncle Haymitch's. He'll take care of you guys."

"_I_ can take care of us. I can take care of Prim and I." Katniss retorted. _I have been since dad died, anyway_, she thought, but bit back her words.

Her mother just shook her head and Prim slumped behind her, sprawling herself across Katniss' bed. "This is not up for discussion, Katniss. You two are spending the summer at Haymitch's, and that is it." She cocked her head to the clock, "And we should get going. Your train should be leaving in about thirty minutes."

She lifted herself off the bed, her quiet steps leading her out the door as Katniss let out an aggravated sigh and Prim walked back to her side of the room, picking her shoes off the floor.

It hadn't always been this way, her relationship with her mother hadn't always been this strained.

Her mother had been a lively woman, had been chatty and happy in many ways like Prim. But her father's death had all but killed her mother as well.

Memories from before are still vivid in Katniss' mind; innumerable Sundays spent at the lake with her father. He'd taught her how to fish, how to canoe, how to truly appreciate the world of nature around them. They would spend hours in the middle of the water, their small boat gently rocking with the waves as the two sat quietly, back to back, fishing rods in hand. They'd wait until the sun was dipping deep into the horizon, the sky a perfect shade of orange as they'd drive home from the lake, her father singing loudly to the tunes blaring from his old, noisy radio.

Her mother would always save her prettiest dresses for Sundays, and when the two got home from the river, her eyes would light up as her father drove into the gravelly drive way, her lips finding his as soon as he stepped into the house.

And as her father carved the fish, her mother would prepare the rest of their dinner. They would talk, laugh, sing as they spent their favorite moments of the week together, and Katniss would help Prim bathe before dinner.

Before, her mother was a woman of words, a woman known for her laughs that were too loud and smiles that were radiant and plenty. She was a part-time nurse at the hospital, always home before her daughter and husband. Now, her mother was just a hollow, empty woman who worked longer and longer hours until she was almost never home at all.

The car accident two years ago hadn't taken just one person from her life; it had stolen both of her parents from her.

* * *

"I don't want to go." Katniss said, finally voicing what she held back from her mother for weeks now. She stomped her foot ineffectively, her frown deepening as she heard both Gale and Prim let out snorts of laughter.

"Well, I would appreciate if you didn't take your anger out on good ol' Betsy." He said, a wry smile on his face as he patted the dashboard of his car.

She shot him the dirtiest look she could muster and slumped deeper into her seat, her shoulders drooping low.

She heard Gale sigh as his eyes softened, "It won't be so bad." He said, resting his hand on her thigh. "It's only three months, you'll be home before you know it. And if it really _is _that bad, just call me. Cedar Point is only a two hour drive from here; I'll come pick you up. We'll hide you and Prim in the attic until your mom comes back."

He cocked his head towards his rearview mirror, a playful smile on his rugged face, "How does that sound Prim? You don't mind hiding out in the attic, do you?"

Katniss heard her sister giggle, "Nope! Plus, I can even hide under Posy's bed!"

Gale laughed, turning his attention back to Katniss. "See, there's our plan. If it sucks out there at Cedar Point, you can come right back here."

She allowed a small smile as he stalled the car, shifting the gear into park before pulling the keys out of the ignition.

"So, we're here." He said quietly, giving her knee a small squeeze before opening his door, hopping out of his truck.

Katniss reached for Prim's hand as Gale reached into the trunk of his truck, hauling the two vinyl duffle bags onto his shoulder before placing his hand to the small of Katniss' back, leading her to the train platform.

The train whistled, warning her to board it before it left without her, and she was tempted to run the other way, back home.

Gale pulled her into his arms, and she leaned into him, his familiar, musky scent enveloping her.

"I'll miss you." He whispered into her ear, his breathe tickling her ears.

"Me too, Gale." She said, stepping away from him before clutching Prim's hand again.

She walked to her seat, Prim in tow and slumped into the uncomfortable plastic. She waved at Gale from the window, mustering a weak, small smile as the train whistled loudly once more before pulling away.

She closed her eyes, a lump forming in the back of her throat, her head knocking loudly against the plastic of her seat and she felt Prim squeeze her fingers in her warm hand. "It'll be okay, Katniss. As long as we're together, we'll be okay."

And her words were so sweet, so soft, so _Prim_, that she almost believed them. Almost.

* * *

Exactly two hours and fifteen minutes later, Katniss and Prim are the only two to step off the train.

Katniss stood on the platform, her hand clutching Prim's, their luggage sitting at their feet. She squinted her eyes, scanning the almost empty platform for the uncle she hadn't seen in two years, as small beads of sweat formed on her forehead. It was hot, and the sun was too bright on her face, though she could hear the waves of the beach nearby.

There was no Haymitch, although that didn't come as much of a surprise to her or Prim. They're uncle was known to be a lethargic, lazy person who drank most of his life away. And when he wasn't drinking, he was holed up in his home, writing.

Her uncle had had a short run of success; ten years ago, after writing and trashing countless novels, Haymitch had finally found a publisher who liked his work enough, who had agreed to publish his novel. And whilst working with his editor late into the night, fixing his book and sharing a few laughs, he fell in love with her.

No one could blame him; She was beautiful, with long blonde hair and green eyes that reminded Katniss of the marsh that surrounded the lake. She had a small nose that fit her face just right, and always had a smattering of freckles on her cheeks. She was sweet, her voice like sugar, and she was smart, always having a way with words in a way her uncle, the writer, did not.

Her name was Maysilee Donner, and in almost every one's opinion, she was far too good for her egotistical, messy uncle.

And it wasn't too long before she realized that as well, because just months after they'd tied the knot in a small, beach wedding, he found her kissing her latest author – Seneca Crane.

And from there, it went downhill for her uncle.

He'd taken a strong liking to alcohol, and swore he could not find a way to cure his writer's block though she'd once heard her mother whisper to her father that she wasn't sure he was ever sober enough to really know.

She hadn't seen him much since then, only catching a glance of him at her father's funeral. Although, in truth, that whole event was just a blur of tears to her.

Her eyes scanned the pavement, noting only two other people who stood on the platform aside from Prim and her.

She first took in the old lady who sat on the lone bench, her graying hair messily tied up in a bun. She wore a tie-dyed shirt and sat quietly, absorbed in the book she held in her hands.

She shifted her gaze to the boy standing on the other end. He had short, curly blonde hair and wore a pair of faded jeans and a bright blue shirt that almost hurt her eyes. He lifted his gaze towards her, and she realized the bright blue of his shirt matched perfectly with the blue of his eyes.

His eyes registered in recognition, and he waved his hand in the air, a warm, easy smile gracing his lips.

"Katniss? Prim?" He shouted across the platform, his voice friendly as though he'd known the two of them his whole life.

She looked at him wearily, tightening her grip on Prim's fingers protectively.

She didn't know who he was, but he seemed to know them.

She nodded her head slightly and he took it as a signal to introduce himself, moving towards them.

As he neared them, Katniss noticed the splattering of paint on him. And he smelled sweet and warm, reminding her vaguely of cupcakes.

He stuck his hand out, his shake too friendly in a way that irritated her, before shaking Prim's.

"Haymitch sent me to pick you guys up," he said, his voice still too cheery and jovial to be normal and Katniss was sure he was high, probably a pot-head.

He pointed his eyes towards their bags, "These yours?"

"Yes, but you don't have to get them, we'll manage." Prim said, reaching for her bag.

He beat her to it, easily lifting both bags in his hand before patting his hand endearingly on Prim's head with his free hand, an easy smile on his face, "Don't worry, I got them."

"So, how was the train ride?" Peeta asked, putting their luggage into the trunk of his car before opening the door for both Prim and Katniss.

He put his keys in to the ignition, starting up his car before pulling out into an empty intersection. It wasn't too long before the ocean was in view. It was, after all, what Cedar Point was known for.

"Good." Katniss said, leaving it at that. She'd never been good at small-talk.

"It wasn't too bad," Prim said, keeping up the conversation with Peeta as Katniss fell quiet in the passenger seat.

The lingering smell of paint hit her nose as she glanced back at Prim, who was eyeing the art supplies covering the seat next to her.

"Sorry about all that," Peeta said, looking at Prim through the rearview mirror. "I was going to clean up for you guys but I just ran out of time."

Prim shook her head, "Don't worry about it. Do you paint?" She asked, her voice curious, almost as friendly as Peeta's. Though, Katniss wasn't sure anyone sane could reach that level of friendliness.

He nodded his head, his blonde curls bouncing just a tiny bit. "I do! Do you, Prim?"

Prim shook her head, "No, but I have always wanted to. I just never knew where to begin or what to do with the paints."

He smiled at her, his lips permanently stretched upwards it seemed. "Why don't you join me sometime? I paint all the time! Well, when I'm not working."

Prim nodded her head excitedly, "I'd love to!"

"You're more than welcome to join us, Katniss." Peeta said, looking at her and she just nodded back, unsure of what to say.

She didn't paint. She fished. She hunted. She set up snares.

A silence fell over the car and Peeta reached for the radio, playing a song. He hummed along with it, and for a millisecond, she was reminded of her father.

She shook her head, staring out the window as small houses came into view. In between each tiny, colorful house, a strip of the water could be seen. Small boats bobbed along the waves,

He stalled the car in front of a off-white, big house, the paint chipping off in parts near the windows. It had a southern looking red porch, the paint on the wood fading, wrapping around the house in the front, a rusty bike leaned up against the railing.

There were bushes below the porch, messy and out of control, in need of grooming. But of course, that is what one would expect of Haymitch Abernathy's home.

She clambered out of the car, and noticed that Peeta had opened Prim's door for her and was heading towards her. He stopped when he realized she'd let herself out, and turned back to the trunk, lifting their two bags.

"Haymitch is expecting you guys, he is so excited about you two coming!" Peeta said, his blue eyes even brighter in the sun.

"Sure he is." Katniss muttered under her breath, wearily eyeing the house.

She felt something move around her feet and looked down, a small shriek involuntarily escaping her lips as she found an ugly, orange cat sniffing at her torn, beat up converses.

The tom-cat looked up at her, his eyes mean and hard, and he let out a hiss as she realized she was stepping on the edge of his tail.

She jumped off, backing away from the hideous thing and hit the front bumper of Peeta's car.

"Oh, I'm sorry, are you scared of cats?" He asked, his eyes concerned.

She shook her head, supremely embarrassed by her outrageous behavior. It was just a cat; she had _killed_ animals much larger than this small feline.

"No," she breathed. "He just caught me by surprise."

He nodded at her, a smile in his eyes as he opened his mouth to speak, but shut it again as Prim squealed in delight.

"Oh my God! He is so cute! Is he yours, Peeta?" Prim asked eagerly, rocking on her heels as she pet the orange ball of fur.

Katniss sighed. This was typical. Every animal they'd ever encountered automatically found a disliking towards Katniss, but cuddled up to Prim immediately. This was no different, Katniss realized, as the cat purred, leaning into Prim's touch.

Peeta squatted next to her, rubbing the cat's head affectionately. "No, he's not mine, exactly. He's a stray, but he mostly keeps around here, so I give him some food sometimes. I've named him Buttercup."

"Awww, Buttercup." Prim cooed, her fingers grazing the feline's orange fur.

"Boy? Is that you?" A gruff voice came from inside the house, and the screen door opened.

Haymitch shielded his face with his fingers, his disdain for the too-bright sun evident in his face.

"Yes, sir. The train was right on time." He said, walking up the short steps to the front door, nodding at Haymitch.

"I'll take these inside for you" Peeta said, smiling for the umpteenth time before heading inside.

Haymitch looked at Katniss, and then Prim, before nodding at the both of them. "Hello."

"Hi, Uncle Haymitch!" Prim said sweetly, wrapping her tiny arms around his waist. He patted her back awkwardly before she let go.

Katniss lingered behind her, taking in the appearance of her uncle. He was wearing a gray shirt, a long dark stain running down the front half. He wore jeans, a small hole forming at his knee, the bottoms frayed. His breathe reeked of alcohol, though she couldn't be too sure if he was drunk or not.

"Uncle Haymitch." Katniss said simply, nodding her head at him again.

He nodded back, before mumbling something under his breathe, opening the door for the both of them to enter his house.

"Thanks for letting us stay with you this summer." Prim said again, trying to find a solution to the awkward silence that hung over the three of them.

He nodded, mumbling something again.

Well, Katniss thought, that was one thing they had in common. Neither one of them could really keep up any sort of conversation.

He slurred a string of words under his breathe, the only one Katniss could really understand was 'Peeta' before heading into a room, shutting the door behind him.

Peeta peeked out from the kitchen, "I put your guys' bags in your room," he said, "would you like me to show the way?"

"Yes, please!" Prim exploded, glad to have someone who was better at conversation than Haymitch and Katniss.

The two of them bantered with each other happily, looking as long-lost friend as Katniss tuned them out, taking in the surroundings.

The house smelled funny; like bread and flour and sweets, she thought. But there was a distinctive smell of alcohol mixed in, too, and it burned her nostrils.

The house was scarcely furnished. The living room just held a couch with fading upholstery and a Television box. There was a rug under the couch, covering the wooden floors. As she padded down the halls, following Peeta and Prim, she noticed the bare, white walls. It almost looked like the house was vacant.

Peeta opened a door, "This is your guys' room."

There was a large bed in the center of the room, their two duffel bags sitting in the middle of the mattress. There was a small window on the corner, a table on the other corner, a chest of drawers in between the two.

"I'll leave you guys to it," Peeta said, smiling generously once more before shutting the door behind him.

"He's _really_ nice," Prim said a moment after the door had closed shut, sitting on the bed. "Do you think he lives with Haymitch?"

Katniss shrugged, not knowing the answer to the latter. "Not sure" she said simply, though truly, she thought he was a bit irritating. No one needed to smile that much.

She unpacked her clothes, laughing a bit as Prim messily pushed her clothes in a drawer, struggling as she forced it shut.

"Why don't you fit some in the other drawers, little bunny?" Katniss asked, pulling out an empty drawer for her baby sister.

Prim looked at her as though the idea hadn't occurred to her, and Katniss helped her neatly fold her clothes into the drawer.

Prim headed down the stairs as Katniss headed to the shower, scrubbing herself cleaning. Travelling always made her feel dirty, almost as though she'd walked her journey rather than sitting in a relatively clean train car.

Stepping out of the shower, she pulled on a pair of jeans a black shirt. She brushed her hair, twisting it back into a braid before trudging down the stairs, the smell of something delicious reeling her in.

She walked to the kitchen, finding Peeta and Prim engaged in a conversation, an extra plate set next to Prim.

"We were gonna wait for you, but you took too long to shower and I got hungry." Prim said, her mouth turned upwards and Katniss smiled back at her, taking a seat next to her.

She took a spoonful of the stew in front of her, her mouth watering at just the smell.

Prim and Peeta easily resumed their conversation, something about the different kinds of paints he used.

She took another spoonful and wondered if this is what her summer would be like – sitting in a strange house with her strange uncle, listening to this strange boy and her precious little sister talk about anything and everything.

* * *

_Oh but that one night_

_Was more than just right_

_I didn't leave you cause I was all through_

_Oh I was overwhelmed and in fact scared as hell_

_Because I really fell for you_

* * *

a/n: please, please, pleasee review! each and every review you guys send my way makes my day! this chapter is a little bit on the shorter side but i was so inspired to write this story this morning that i ended up plotting and writing up this chapter in one day so, yes, the next chapter will hopefully be better and longer!

hope you guys liked it! let me know what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

a/n: thank you so so so much for your guys' reviews and favorites and notifications! you all got me to write this next chapter much faster than i had intended lol. anyway, hope you all enjoy!

* * *

Haymitch trudged into the kitchen a few minutes later, clad in flannel pants that hung loosely off of him and a black robe that he made no attempt to tie in the front, displaying a white, coffee stained shirt.

He walked to his cabinets, opening three different ones before Peeta shook his head at him, a smile ever present on his face. "The plates are in the third cabinet from the right, Haymitch." He said, earning nothing but a grumble from her lazy, old uncle.

Haymitch all but stumbled into his seat, pouring the stew into his bowl.

The only thing her uncle really shared with her mother, Katniss thought, were the deep blue eyes and the blonde hair. But that is where the similarities ended. Haymitch's nose was set wider on his face, whereas her mother's was slender and his hair was more of a dirtier shade of blonde, darker. Though she wasn't sure it just seemed that way from his lack of washing and grooming it. He also had a rougher face, it seemed tired and weary at all times. But her mother's remained smooth, remained flawless despite the years she'd gone through.

Peeta's chair screeched against his wooden floor and she shifted her gaze away from her uncle. He picked up his plate and took it to the sink, and Katniss stared at his back.

Peeta's hair was short, but the curls still managed to form around his bottom, his blonde hair looked golden in the sun. He was tall, and his shoulders were broad. His bright blue shirt clung to his him, his muscles bulging in his arms.

He looked like the kind of guy Katniss would be sure to avoid at school.

He looked back at them, patting his hands dry on his shirt, smiling warmly. "Well, I've got to go but it was really nice to meet the both of you!"

He patted Prim's head fondly as he made his way out, she beamed at him, excitedly telling him how nice it was to meet him, as well.

"I'll see you guys later," he said, flashing his teeth.

He held Katniss' eye for a beat too long before he waved his hand at her, and Katniss realized, with flushing pink cheeks, that she must have been staring at him.

Katniss turned her attention back to her stew, glancing at Prim for a short second, ignoring the strange smile plastered on her little sister's face.

Haymitch cleared his throat, "So, how's your mom?" he asked, his eyes flittering between both Prim and Katniss.

"Fine." Katniss replied, her usual answer.

"She's okay. Some days she's better, some days she's not." Prim added, her voice sad in a way that Katniss couldn't stand and Haymitch simply nodded.

She didn't care that her mother had abandoned _her_. Katniss was old enough, she could care for herself. She could handle the sorrow, the grief that came with losing a parent. But her little sister had lost her father when she was just ten, far too young to have to be as sad as she was. And her mother should have been there for Prim. Her mother should have known how to handle her grief for long enough to take care of her youngest daughter.

It was something Katniss would resent her mother for till she died, she was sure of it.

Prim broke a piece of bread with her fingers, her eyes widening as she chewed and swallowed. "This is really good, uncle Haymitch!" She said, her mouth already full with the other half of the bread. "Where did you get this?"

"The boy made it," their uncle said, picking up a roll, turning it in his hand before taking a bite. "He's good at that kinda stuff."

"Who is he? How do you know him?" Katniss blurted. She knew her uncle was somewhat of a freak, but she found that boy to be even a bit more unnerving. Her uncle was the kind of freak she could understand, connect to, even. But the blonde way was out of her realm, unfathomable.

"Peeta?" Haymitch asked, his eyes widening just a slight bit as he looked at Katniss. She hadn't said more than four words to him since she'd been here, he seemed to be confused by her even speaking.

"Yeah! I was wondering about that. Does he live with you, uncle Haymitch?" Prim asked, answering for Katniss.

"Yeah, he works for me." Was all their uncle said before bringing his warm stew to his lips, loudly slurping the remnants of what was left in the bowl.

Prim's nose scrunched up with disgust, though she disguised it with a small giggle as their uncle let out a loud belch, standing up from his seat.

"I'll be in my room if you need me." He said, leaving his dish on the table.

Prim waited until the door slammed shut before looking Katniss, a smile in her eyes. "He's not really like mom at all." She said, her chair screeching against the floor as she stood up.

Katniss nodded, saying nothing in return. It was her standard response for when her baby sister commented on their mother. She just found it was easier to say nothing at all.

Katniss followed Prim to the sink, turning the tap on. She splayed her fingers under the running water, waiting until it turned to a warmer temperature before rinsing the dishes under it. She handed them to Prim one by one, who dried the dishes before placing them on a rack that seemed to hold the rest of Haymitch's dishes.

"Katniss?" Prim said, wiping her hands on a dish towel before handing it to Katniss. "Could we go out to the beach for a bit?"

Katniss stared at her sister, her bright blue eyes growing by the second. Katniss was tired, exhausted from the day and wanted nothing more than to pull on her pajamas and crawl into bed, go into hiding for the rest of the summer. But she couldn't ignore the pleading look on her little sister's innocent, young face. She never could.

"Fine, but not for too long." She said, tapping her finger lightly on Prim's small nose.

She followed Prim out glass doors that led out the deck, and the sound of the waves clashing against one another roared in her ear. She let out a small gasp as she stepped out onto the deck, the wood creaking with each step.

The sun bled an orange, red color as it dipped deep into the horizon, the blue of the sky fading, a small hint of the moon appearing in its place. The water was close, _so_ close and as she stepped down the creaking wooden stairs, she felt the warm sand under her toes.

"The beach is uncle Haymitch's backyard?" Prim asked, her voice awed in amazement, her blue eyes wide.

Katniss smiled fondly at her sister, a wry smile on her lips "Beats our backyard, huh?"

Prim, Katniss and their mother lived in a small, rusty house, one that barely had grass in its backyard let alone the entire ocean. Before their father died, he never let the house feel small, almost made it seem bigger than it was with just his presence, with his smiles and his songs. He would plant flowers in their small front yard and even smaller back yard, and would paint the door different every year because he always wanted a change in the house. With each year of new flowers and new colors, Katniss had almost felt like she had moved to a different house each year. It was a fresh beginning, in the smallest way.

But now, their yards were left bare, not a single flower in the dry soil lining their old house. And their door was still red, the color their father had painted it last. The paint was chipping in too many placed, the color looked rusted. The door almost mocked her; there were no new beginnings here.

She felt Prim's small fingers tug at her, her blonde hair tangling in the soft wind. She followed Prim's footsteps in the sand, rubbing the small bumps on her arms away with her free hand.

She waited for a few seconds before calling out to Prim, "It's a little cold out here, little bunny. You're gonna get sick, let's come back tomorrow morning."

Prim looked at her dubiously, her eyes squinting. "You promise you'll come out with me tomorrow?"

Katniss rolled her eyes playfully, "Yes, Prim. I promise I'll come out here with you tomorrow morning."

"You won't break your promise? Like you do every time you tell me you'll take me to the lake but go out with Gale before I even wake up, instead?"

Katniss stepped closer to Prim, her toes sinking into the wet sand. She poked Prim's stomach, earning a small giggle from her little sister. "Yes, you little bunny. I pinky promise I'll come with you tomorrow, alright?"

Prim smiled approvingly, "Race you back!" She said, her tiny feet swiftly carrying her across the sand and back up the few steps.

Katniss jogged behind her, noting between Haymitch's house and the house next to it that the car Peeta had driven them home in was still parked on the street.

She still wondered about him, the boy with the permanent smile and the brightest blue eyes she'd ever seen. There was something strange about him, something unnerving. But she didn't know what it was, or why she felt that way. He hadn't done anything to her.

She froze in her spot for a second as a blue shirt peeked out from the corner of the house, followed by a tussle of blonde curls.

It was Peeta. He carried large squares of some sort of board into the garage of Haymitch's house. He disappeared for only a second before he walked back out to the car, carrying in two small cardboard boxes.

He looked in her direction, his pace slowing down for a second and she started walking again, her eyes glued to the sand below her until she felt the wood of the deck under her feet, her cheeks warm and hot.

She slid into the house and found Prim on the sofa in the living room, her feet lazily sprawled on the coffee table in front of her.

"You lost … by like five minutes."

* * *

Katniss stepped out of the shower, her eyes still burning. She didn't sleep very well that night; she never did anymore. Nightmares kept her up, images of her father dying in a million different ways plaguing her nights. She usually managed to get a few minutes of sleep, but knowing that Prim was in such close proximity and could hear her screams kept her too alert, too awake all night.

The smell of something warm, something delicious filled her nostrils and she padded to the kitchen, her stomach roaring violently.

She found Prim at the kitchen table, a muffin in her hand. She was dressed already, donning a red dress, her hair neatly twisted into two braids that fell below her shoulders.

"Uncle Haymitch said that he'll be in his study if we need him," she said, small crumbs of chocolate littering around her face. "You gotta try one of these!"

Katniss looked at the plate set on the table, five muffins placed neatly on them.

"They're so good," Prim said, "I bet Peeta made them."

"But eat them fast," she added, as an afterthought. "You promised you would take me to the beach! No taksey-backsies."

Katniss smiled, "No taksey-backsies." She agreed, picking up a chocolate muffin in her hand, the scent of the sweet pastry making her mouth water. "Let's go."

Prim stood abruptly, patting her dress free of the crumbs that had fallen around her before racing to the large glass door, using all of her strength to push it open.

Katniss followed after her, biting into the muffin in her hands. It was delicious, far better than anything she'd had to eat in far too long.

The sun was bright, but felt nice on her cheeks and the smell of the saltwater made her feel lazy all of a sudden, lethargic. She plopped onto the sand, far enough that the water wouldn't near her, and crossed her legs under her. Taking another bite of her muffin, she watched as Prim gingerly walked across to the wet sand, the waves splashing over her feet occasionally as she searched the length of the beach for seashells.

It was a habit Prim had picked up when she was young, just a toddler beginning to walk. Her father used to put them all in a container, collecting all the sea-shells Prim picked up along the way and then he'd go home and make a picture frame, attaching the shells to the wooden frames. He'd slide in a polaroid picture he'd taken that day of them – sometimes the whole family, sometimes just Prim and her – and he'd put it on the mantel above their fire place.

You could almost watch the two of them grow up in those pictures, each photograph signifying a new year, new differences in their faces and bodies.

Katniss finished the last of her muffin, and turned to see a small girl, probably Prim's age, walking along the water, a leash in her hand attached to a dog that seemed to look much bigger than the small girl.

The girls hair stood in the air, the curls tangling in the wind as she struggled to keep up with her dog, a beautiful golden retriever. Her skin was tan, a dark creamy color, contrasting with the bright orange shirt she wore.

Katniss looked at Prim, her little sister's eyes growing with adoration as she gazed at the puppy.

If her little sister had one weakness, it was animals. Too many times, Prim had brought in puppies and kittens, birds and bunnies that she'd found in their backyard or on her way from school, begging her father to let her keep it.

Each time, her father would treat the animals with affection, playing with them and feeding them before explaining to Prim that the animals either probably belonged back in the wild, or with their rightful owners before he set out to find their respective places.

Not surprising Katniss at all, Prim skipped to wear the girl stood and began talking to her animatedly before crouching to pet the dog.

Katniss scrunched her face as the dog licked Prim's face happily, leaving a wet trail along her cheeks and fingers.

Prim began talking to the girl as the dog calmed, and the two of them headed towards Katniss.

That was another difference between her and her sister, Katniss thought. Whereas Katniss could barely manage to make small talk with people, let alone make friends with them, Prim managed to worm her way into people's hearts immediately, becoming pals with every stranger she ever passed.

It was one of the qualities Katniss hated most about herself; high school would be much easier if she could learn to talk, learn to converse with people, she was sure of it.

As the two neared, Katniss smacked a smile on her face, hoping the dog wouldn't get too close to her.

"Hey Katniss, this is Rue! She's Haymitch's neighbor!" Prim said as she plopped down next to Katniss.

The small girl smiled at Katniss, shyly sticking her hand out to her before taking a seat next to the Prim. She unhooked her excited dog's leash from his collar and he ran, free to splash in the water.

"How are you guys liking it here so far?" Rue asked to no one in particular.

"It's nice," Katniss said, she was beginning to think it would become her standard response to the question.

"I love the beach!" Prim added, stretching her legs out in front of her.

"The beach really is one of the best things about Cedar Point!" Rue said, nodding her head. Katniss liked the way the little girl's curls flew in the air, untamed. "But have you guys been to Freddy's yet?"

"Who's Freddy?" Prim asked, and Rue laughed, small and cute.

"Freddy's not a person, Freddy's is this diner nearby. It's actually Freddy's Burgers. And it's really good, especially their fries and chocolate shakes. Do you guys wanna check it out?"

Prim nodded her head excitedly; all Rue had to say was the word 'chocolate' and Prim would be ready to join in, really.

Katniss, on the other hand, hesitated. She wasn't too interested in exploring the town of Cedar Point, she was more content hiding out in the house, under the comfort of her bed sheet. The plan seemed to work for her Uncle Haymitch, anyway.

Prim, knowing Katniss thoughts already, looked at her pointedly. "C'mon Katniss. Come with us! It'll be fun!" Her eyes grew wide, and although Katniss knew she was indulging the little girl's and her usage of the big, wide innocent eyes but she nodded anyway.

She stood from her place, brushing the sand from her jeans and fixed her shirt which had fallen off of her shoulders.

"Aren't you hot in all that black?" Prim asked as they began their trek to Freddy's and Katniss shook her head, she was used to wearing all black. She felt comfortable in all black.

Rue led them across the street, and Katniss vaguely recognized Peeta's car parked in front of her uncle's house. and over a small. There was a small convenience store on side of the street, about a block away and as they crossed a small wooden bridge, they were on a boardwalk-looking strip. At the end of the board-walk, Katniss could see a place named Freddy's, its parking lot mostly vacant other than four cars.

They walked the short distance to the old-looking diner and Rue led them in, holding the door open for both Katniss and Prim.

Rue seemed to know the place well, walking over to a table with a large window, allowing them to see not just the boardwalk but the ocean, the seagulls scattered across the railings that served as a buffer between the beach and the boardwalk.

The diner was empty for the most part, only a few tabled filled with high school kids. Everyone looked ready to go to the beach, Katniss thought, suddenly feeling a bit out of place in her jeans and t-shirt.

A girl approached their table and smiled familiarly at Rue, "Hey Rue! How are you?"

Rue smiled back in a way that reminded Katniss of her own little sister, "Hi Annie. I'm good, how are you?"

The girl wore her dark, wavy hair in a pony at the top of her head, and her dark, green, emerald eyes sparkled in the sun. She wore a ring on her finger, Katniss noticed, small and pretty.

"Oh, the same." She shrugged, before smiling at Prim and then turning her attention towards Katniss. Her green eyes flicked in recognition. "Oh! You guys must be Haymitch's nieces!"

Katniss squinted her eyes dubiously at the girl, and opened her mouth to ask her how she could have possibly known when the girls soft laugh cut her off, "It's a small town, word gets around fast. Haymitch was very excited about your visit, though!" She said, handing them all a laminated sheet, the menu.

"Just let me know when you're ready!" She said, smiling a gracious smile at the three before heading towards the next table, pulling a pen from behind her ear.

_Did everyone just smile all the time in this town_? Katniss wondered, scanning the room around her.

Her eyes suddenly landed on a scowl; the girl wore her hair short, dark and just above her shoulders and had brown eyes, wide-set on her small face. She had bright red lipstick on, and stared at Katniss from across the room as she served a table, her eyes flickering between her customers and Katniss with a weird look on her face.

Katniss shifted in her seat uncomfortably, letting out a breathe she hadn't realized she was holding in as Annie made her way back to their table, her smile blocking the scowling girl from behind.

She looked at Katniss expectantly and Katniss realized she hadn't even looked at her menu. She shifted her gaze away from the dark-haired girl and Annie looked behind her, shaking her head at the same girl who rolled her eyes and looked away.

Remembering Rue's words, she ordered a chocolate shake, managing a small smile at the girl that felt weird on her lips. She wasn't one to smile, not without reason at least.

Katniss stared out the window, distracted by the seagulls and the waves as the two younger girls talked easily with each other. Their laughter and chatter faded down at the same time, and Katniss looked over to them.

A tuft of blonde curls came into view, a happy, carefree smile following it.

Peeta stood at their table, placing burgers in front of both Prim and Rue before sliding a large glass in front of Katniss, filled to the rim with a chocolatey froth.

He smiled warmly at them, "You showing the new-comers around, Rue?" He asked, patting her head fondly.

She nodded, her grin widening.

"Well you made the right decision by bringing 'em here." He said, before turning to Katniss. "And _you_ made the best decision by ordering this" He nodded at the shake in front of her, "there the best things we've got."

She nodded at him, still trying to figure out how he managed to come off as so … friendly. All the time.

He smiled at her once more, this time even bigger, before turning on his heel, making his way back to the kitchen.

He stopped after he'd taken a few steps and turned back, stopping just an inch from their table. "Hey, there's this bonfire thing tonight at the beach," he said, pointing towards the window. "You guys should come. It's just gonna be a bunch of people, hanging around."

Both Rue and Prim nodded excitedly and Katniss slumped into her chair; venturing out to the diner was enough for one day. She had every intention of spending the rest of the day holed in the house.

Annie walked by, a tray in her own hands as she quickly yelled out to them, "Yes, of course! I don't know why I didn't think to invite you! You guys should definitely come!"

Peeta smiled at Annie, looking like he's about to open his mouth again, continue his invitation when the girl with the short black hair walked past him, flicking the back of his head.

"Move on to the rest of your table, Peeta." She said, "Stop stalling."

Her words sounded mean, her voice hard, but he only shook his head good naturedly before following her instructions, heading back to the kitchen.

"That's Johanna." Rue said, once the girl with the scowl was out of ear-shot. "She can be kinda mean but … but that's just the way she is, I guess."

Katniss snorted, if she could just use that as the explanation for herself, her life would be much more simpler, she thought.

If the girls at her school just simplified her awkward, quiet nature to 'that's just the way she is', high school would be much less like a prison for her.

* * *

Katniss stared her closet, suddenly wishing she'd brought more clothes with her before realizing, these were all the clothes she owned.

She pulled a gray shirt over her head, tugging at it before looking in the mirror. At least it was a change from the all-black, she thought wryly.

She walked to the living room where she found both Rue and Prim sitting on the couch, and fell in next to them.

"Are you ready to go?" Prim said, her hair pulled back from their two usual braids to one long, fish-tailed one down her back. Rue, she noticed, had styled her hair similarly.

Katniss shrugged, "sure."

The three of them stood, and headed to the door and Katniss stopped by her uncle's door, knocking twice before twisting the knob.

"We're going to the beach." She said, peering in from the side of the door.

He looked at her, his eyes widening in shock as he sat in front of his laptop, his legs lazily sprawled on the table in front of him.

He mumbled an 'okay' incoherently and Katniss nodded at him once before shutting the door. Her uncle wasn't a man of many words, she thought, which she found to be ironic because he was a writer.

She followed the girls out to the door, realizing that her plan for the summer of hiding in her bed was not going as well as she had hoped.

* * *

The beach was crowded, most of everyone hovering around the two pits of fire that had been erected near the water, but closer to the dunes.

She noticed Annie only a few minutes after arriving, noticing that the beautiful girl with the enormous green eyes clung tightly to a boy who was equally gorgeous, his body large and muscular.

Katniss stood awkwardly as Rue and Prim continued talking, switching from topic to topic at lightning speed, and she wondered, not for the first time, why she'd come tonight. She would have been much, much happier in her bed with a book. Or, even with the television, though she never watched too much of it.

Annie walked over to them a few minutes later, the boy with the green eyes and bulky body in tow, and she realized that the boy was even more gorgeous up close. His eyes weren't just a beautiful shade of green as Annie's were, but tiny specks of golden swam in the green, the color even brighter by the light of the fire.

"Katniss, right?" Annie said once she was close enough, a can of Coors Light dangling in her fingers. She leaned to Katniss, grabbing her in for a hug and Katniss patted her back until she let go.

Annie looked at her with flushed cheeks, "Oh Katniss, this is Finnick, my boyfriend."

She weaved her fingers through his much larger hands, "Finny, this is Katniss, she's Haymitch's niece." She looked around for a second. "Hey, you have a little sister, right?" She asked.

Katniss looked to her right, where expected both Prim and Rue to be standing, but found emptiness to her side. She craned her neck frantically, her eyes scanning through the large clusters of bodies for her little sister.

"Oh, I think that's them!" Annie said, pointing at two small silhouettes close to the water. One reached down to collect something, and Katniss let out a sigh of relief as she realized it was Prim, reaching down to pick up another seashell.

"She'd adorable!" Annie gushed to Finnick, who just stared at her, a goofy smile on his face. He looked to be the kind of guy Katniss would immediately cast off as a jerk, but the way he looked at Annie made her think, maybe, that he wasn't one.

"She's Rue's age – and Charlie's age!" She continued, turning back to Katniss. "Charlie is Finny's little sister. She's a doll."

Annie suddenly stumbled without even taking a step and Finnick tightened his grip around her waist, "Alright Annie," he said, prying the nearly empty beer can from her fingers. "No more for tonight, okay?"

Annie threw up her hands in defeat, "Okay, okay. No more."

She smiled at Katniss, her smile turning into a frown within a second as she stared at something behind her.

Katniss twisted her neck, her eyes landing on the girl with the scowl from the diner. Johanna.

Her arms were wringed around a tall boy's neck, their bodies pressed together as she sucked his face.

She turned back as she heard a retching nose, and found Annie's nose scrunched up in disgust.

"Ugh, Jo. Cato? Really? Cato?" She shook her head, her disapproval of Johanna's choices evident as Finnick's eyes hardened.

"You wanna get out of here?" he asked, wrapping his fingers around hers. "I don't feel like dealing with him."

"Or her." He muttered under his breathe, and Katniss wasn't sure if Annie had caught the last bit.

Annie looked back to him, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him sweetly before turning back to Katniss.

"We're going to head out, but I'll see you later?"

She leaned in to hug Katniss for a second time, and Katniss stood as awkwardly as before, patting the sweet girl's back.

Finnick waved at her, telling her it was nice to meet her before he led Annie to the boardwalk, his hand hovering on her lower back protectively.

Katniss scanned the beach, her eyes searching for her baby sister for a second time when she felt a tap on her back.

Her heart jumped to her throat as she swiveled, almost hitting the person standing behind her.

She held her hand to her chest, letting out a small breath of relief. "Oh. You scared me."

He smiled widely at her as he always did, running a hand through his blonde hair. "Sorry, didn't mean to."

She nodded, glancing back to where Prim was standing.

"So, are you having fun?" He asked, his voice as friendly as usual.

She shrugged, "I don't really know anyone."

He laughed as he took a seat on blanket, motioning for her to join him. She folded her legs under her as she followed him, wringing her fingers in her hands. She wasn't good at making friends; she wasn't good at talking to people. She wished she could just find Prim and Rue and go back home.

But something about Peeta kept her there, kept her from running away.

"It's alright, this town is insanely small. It'll only take you a few days to figure out who is who." He grabbed a fistful of sand, letting it fall through his fingers slowly.

She nodded again, forever at a loss of words.

"Plus the beach is pretty nice," he said, nodding back towards the water. "Do you surf?"

She shook her head, no. She'd never done anything more than fishing and swimming in the water. And even then, her swimming skills mostly were just her floating.

She hold him that, her sentences short and clipped compared to his easy going tone.

He smiled at her, his blue eyes seeming to be a different shade, more of a teal. It was probably the reflection from the fire and his green shirt, Katniss thought.

Katniss looked away from his eyes, his warm, happy face with a burning in her cheek and looked up, noticing two small forms walking towards her.

Prim's face came in the clear, followed by Rue's.

"Hey Katniss, Rue and I are gonna walk home, okay?" She said, waving at Peeta.

He waved back at the both of them, leaning back on his right shoulder.

"Oh, I'll come with you." Katniss scurried, standing from the sand and Peeta followed her.

Prim threw a weird smile her way, and Katniss looked at her with squinted eyes.

"Oh, no Katniss. Don't worry, you looked like you were having a good time with Peeta! Rue and I will be fine." She said, treading through the bodies of people with Rue before Katniss could stop her.

"She's really cute." Peeta said a beat later, "I'm glad she met Rue. I was actually going to introduce the two sometime later but looks like Rue beat me to it."

She nodded vaguely, straining her neck to scan the boardwalk for Prim and Rue.

Peeta caught her gaze a second later, "They'll be fine. This town is so small, they'll be home in less than five minutes." He said reassuringly.

But her eyes remained focus on the two small forms, trekking up the short wooden bridge.

"…But, if you'd rather, I can walk you home. We can stay close behind them." He said, sensing her worriedness.

She considered this for a second, "Actually, I am going to head home. But you don't have to walk me home, I'm sure I'll find my way. It's a small town, right? How hard can it be?" She said, managing a small, wry smile.

He shook his head, "No, don't worry about it. I was going to go home soon anyway."

Katniss cocked her eyebrow at him, "You just got here."

He looked around the beach, taking in the girls and guys around them. Most of the people had left already, and all that remained were kids mostly around their age, their cheeks flushed, eyes wild, beer cans in their hand and littered across the sand.

"This isn't really my scene," He said, a half smile on his face as he gestured around him. His eyes landed on Johanna, whose arms were still lazily hung around the blonde boy, Cato. Peeta shook his head, a wry smile in his eyes though he managed a small frown.

"Ready to go?" He asked a second later, and she nodded as he weaved through the strings of people, leading her to the boardwalk.

Katniss vaguely noticed the many pair of eyes that followed her and Peeta as they walked, and wondered fleetingly if it was because of Peeta, or because of her.

She was the new girl, and that was sure to get her some attention – attention that Katniss shied away from. But many of the girls' eyes seemed trained on Peeta, ogling at him, though he didn't seem to notice as much.

He was quiet for once, something that came off as strange to Katniss. She hadn't known Peeta for long, but she had noticed his ability to carry on a conversation. Even with a dead-weight like herself.

"Do you live close by?" She asked, squinting her eyes as she saw Prim and Rue turning the corner to Haymitch's street.

Peeta's head whipped around, looking at her confused. "Didn't Haymitch tell you?"

"He told me you work for him …" She said, her own voice confused.

"I live with him," He said, "In the garage. I don't really work for him – I just make sure he eats and clean up the house a bit. Run some errands for him when he needs me to. But he lets me live in his garage so really, it's the least I can do for him."

Katniss wondered why he lived with Haymitch. Why not with his own family, or by himself but she suspected she was treading into personal territory if she did ask, and decided to just nod her head instead. "Oh."

He nodded in return, saying nothing to elaborate on his living arrangement and she realized her suspicions were correct.

"So," he said after a minute too long of an eerie silence, "What kind flavor of cupcakes do you like?"

She heard a snort of laughter escape her lips, "I'm sorry, cupcakes?"

He rubbed his neck sheepishly, his face tinting pink. "My family owned a bakery when I was younger, and I spent most of my childhood making cupcakes and breads."

"Oh! Did you make those muffins this morning?" She asked, stepping onto the creaky wooden bridge.

He nodded, the moon casting a reflection on his face, brightening his eyes in the dark sky.

"Those were _amazing_. I'm pretty sure Prim ate about four of them." She added.

He smiled at her, his white teeth bright on his face. "I'm glad you guys liked them."

She looked out at the convenience store again, the light from the sign above the store flickering, completely black in some parts. It read 'Min – M rt', though she was sure it was meant to be the Mini-Mart.

She turned the corner on the road, Haymitch's house coming into view. "But to answer your question, I like strawberry cupcakes." She said.

When she was younger, she had initially liked chocolate, much like her sister and her mother. But her father always preferred strawberry. Strawberry cakes, strawberry cupcakes. And it wasn't too long before strawberry was also her favorite.

Peeta nodded his head appreciatively, "That's not a common flavor. But they're also one of my favorites. Looks like I'll have to make you some of those sometime."

She smiled at him again as they approached Haymitch's house, surprised he'd managed to get two out of her that night. It was almost like his own smiles were a bit infectious.

She clambered up the steps to the porch as he waited below, still smiling at her.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow, then." She said, twisting the knob before waving at him.

He waved back, a weird look on his face before he turned around, walking to the side of the house.

* * *

Katniss turned in her bed, the sunlight bleeding through her light curtains. She'd been able to fall asleep eventually, as the sun peeked over the horizon, the sky brightening outside her window. She reached for Prim, but felt the cold, empty sheets instead.

She pulled her sheets from over her and dragged herself out of her bed, a low grumbling sounding from her stomach. She always woke up starving; her father always said she ate breakfast like she'd never seen food before. Her early morning hunger had gotten significantly worse since she started spending most of her mornings awake, tossing and turning in her bed.

She walked towards the kitchen, stopping short as she heard a loud slam. Peeta walked in, clad in jeans and a sweatshirt, bright blue sunglasses perched on his blonde hair, mussing his blonde curls.

Katniss touched her braid consciously, feeling loose strands all around her as she pulled on her shorts. She should have looked at a mirror before heading straight from her bed to the kitchen.

Peeta walked past her, smiling warmly at her before making his way to her uncle who was reaching for a cupboard.

He shook his head sternly at Haymitch, "Not know, Haymitch. It's way too early. Have you even eaten breakfast yet?"

Haymitch mumbled something incoherently under his breath, before clearing his throat and stepping away from the cupboard, redirecting himself to the fridge.

Katniss sat down next to Prim who was nursing a glass of milk in her fingers, crumbs of chocolate traced around her lips.

Katniss reached for a muffin that was sitting in front of her, noting that there weren't just chocolate muffins today. Strawberry muffins were sitting on the edge of the plate. She grabbed it, biting into it before meeting Peeta's eyes, smiling hesitantly at him.

"I'm going to the library to return some books, Haymitch do you have anything to return?"

Her uncle grumbled a yes, grabbing a banana before heading back to his office, presumably to retrieve his books.

Peeta walked over to the table, sitting down next to Prim.

"Do you guys wanna come with me? To the library?" he asked, looking between Katniss and Prim.

"I can't, I'm going bike-riding with Rue." Prim said, her tiny fingers reaching for another muffin.

Peeta shifted his gaze towards her, his lips forming a half smile, "Katniss?"

She tried to think of a reason not to go, a reason to hide back in her bed for the rest of the day but found herself shrugging instead. "Sure."

She looked down to her shorts, her old gray tank top, "Could you give me a minute? I need to change."

He nodded, his blue eyes bright as he took a muffin in his own hands, breaking it in his finger. "I'm ready when you are."

He smiled at her again before turning to Prim, easily striking conversation with her little sister as Katniss trudged back to her room.

She found a shirt, white and plain, and pulled it over her shoulders before slipping into a pair of black jeans. The jeans had a hole in them, one she'd gotten during her early morning treks to the woods with Gale. She tied her converses and re-braided her hair before returning to the kitchen, where Peeta sat in the middle of conversation.

His chair screeched against the wooden floor as he stood, "Ready?"

She nodded, and he made his way around to Prim, patting her head fondly before heading towards the door, Katniss following behind him.

He opened the door for her, and as she settled in, taking in the his art materials around the car, he walked around to his side, turning the ignition.

He pulled out of the driveway, whistling a song as he messed with the radio looking for a light. He drove over the small bridge they'd walked over the night before, before letting out a loud whistle.

He stared ahead, and Katniss followed his gaze, noting a cluster of people around the diner. The parking lot was completely full, crowds of people standing in and around the small restaurant.

Peeta sighed, an apology in his eyes. "I'm sorry, we're going to have to make a small detour." He said, before turning to the lot of the diner, putting his car in park.

Confused, Katniss followed him as he weaved through the chaotic throngs of people. He murmured apologies as he walked between the angry, hungry surfers, and he reached his fingers to hers, holding on to her as to not lose her in the crowds.

They finally stumbled into the restaurant, and found Annie and Johanna at the front counter.

Annie looked nervous, her green eyes flashing with panic as she clutched Johanna's arms tightly. Johanna still wore a stoic look, a scowl gracing her lips.

"Peeta!" Annie yelled as the two of them neared them, and Katniss slowly let go of his hands. "Thank God you're here! We're packed and we can't seat all these people and we're down two on staff and –" she broke off, breathing hard.

"It's the rush from the surf competition this morning," Johanna added, bending down to find all the menus they had.

"It's alright," Peeta said, his voice soothing as he touched Annie's back. "I'll help out in the kitchen and right now, we'll seat as many as we can and the rest can wait outside, alright?"

He turned back to Katniss, "I'm sorry – we're going to have to go to the library at a later time. Will you be okay walking back home?"

But before Katniss could nod and find her way out of the crowded restaurant, Johanna stopped her.

"No. Wait – we could use an extra hand. You have any experience working at a restaurant?"

Katniss shook her head, no.

"Alright, that's fine." Johanna said, "How about you start getting some?" She pushed menus into Katniss' hands before stalking away, seating the customers who'd been waiting.

Katniss' eyes widened as she looked to Peeta who just raised his eyebrows at her, a small smile on his lips.

And just like that, Katniss Everdeen had a summer job.

* * *

a/n: please remember to review, guys! you all make my day :) hope you liked it!


	3. Chapter 3

a/n: thank you all so much for your reviews and notifications and alerts! so overwhelming and wonderful!

* * *

Annie weaved through the tables, refilling the condiment bottles as Johanna sat at the register, arranging the money in front of her.

Johanna's hair, short, wavy and black was piled on her head in a messy ponytail, a pencil sticking out from behind her ear. Right behind her left earlobe, Katniss could make out a faint tattoo. It was black and small, almost hidden. Katniss squinted her eyes for only a second as Johanna cocked her head to look at Annie and then Katniss sizing her up with a glare as she forced her eyes back to her money.

The tattoo was of a dark heart, some sort of vines going around it. And there were words, numbers maybe outlining the heart in curvy, bolded writing though she couldn't quite make it out from where she was and Katniss silently wondered who that was meant for, what it signified.

"We could use the help is all I'm saying, Jo." Annie said, her green eyes flicking between Johanna and Katniss before turning back to the red bottle of ketchup in her hand, her fingers twisting the lid open.

"I think we're fine." Johanna replied, the pencil from her hair now held securely in her fingers, dancing across a piece of paper.

"But at the moment it's just you, me, Peeta, Brick and Sae. Lucy won't be coming back from Tennessee until the end of August and we've got a long way to go until then. And if we have another day like today, we're screwed. We couldn't have made it without Katniss answering the phone and getting the sodas."

Annie threw a smile her way, her green eyes bright and assuring and Katniss managed a smile back, feeble and awkward.

Johanna sighed from where she was sitting loudly, swiveling in her seat to look at Katniss. She gauged her, probably judging her clothes, her ordinary braid and face.

Katniss stared back at Johanna, realizing that the girl in front of her was far from ordinary. Her hair was short and dark, too dark to be natural. And her eyes were brown, but were rimmed with blue make-up, making the brown stand out on her pale skin. Her face was small, heart-shaped. But her eyes were large and wide, her lips a bit swollen, forming a pout on her face. She looked like someone Katniss would ordinarily ignore. Or avoid.

"How old are you?" Johanna snapped at her, her hand falling to her hip.

"Seventeen."

Johanna sighed loudly, exaggeratedly. "Fine. But we can't offer you much. Just minimum wage and tips. Which, by the way, tends to suck because most of our customers are either broke or still in high school."

She looked down at a piece of paper, her eyes skimming it for a quick second before they stared at Katniss again, hard and cold. "We open at seven, close at ten. Except for Fridays and Saturdays, we close at eleven. You'd probably working afternoons, meaning you'll have to close. Which is a bit of work, if you can tell." She said, her hands flying in the air, gesturing towards the room that looked like it needed a good scrubbing.

"It's not a fun job. It's not easy. If I were you, I would think long and hard before just accepting it." Johanna concluded, drawing her eyes back to the paper in front of her, the pencil in her fingers moving quickly again.

Katniss looked at Annie, her eyes unsure. Annie beamed back at her, clearly victorious. "I think you should take the job, Katniss. It'll be loads of fun – It's really not as bad as Jo's making it sound, she's just bitter."

She rolled her eyes good humoredly at Johanna, who ignored her.

Katniss saw a head of blonde fly over the counter, an easy, warm smile coming into view. "For what it's worth, I also think that you should take the job, Katniss." Peeta said, leaning over the cement buffer that divided the kitchen and the seating area.

"Just say yes!" Annie repeated, her fingers brushing Katniss' shoulder briefly before she twisted the top of another ketchup container, refilling the empty red condiment bottle.

Katniss shifted her gaze from Johanna, whose scowl seemed to be permanent and looked between Annie and Peeta wearily, both of their smiles warm and welcoming.

"Okay," she said. "I, I guess I'll take it."

Johanna looked up at her again, the pencil tucked back behind her ear again, nearly hidden in the dark shadows of her hair. "You start tomorrow. Be here at four."

Annie clapped her hands together, as Peeta flashed another happy smile at her before turning back, returning to his grill.

"Yay! Katniss!" Annie said, handing Katniss a bottle of ketchup. "Welcome to the diner!"

* * *

Peeta had slipped out from the kitchen at some point without notice while Morgan set about teaching her the basics of waitressing, her mouth moving a mile a minute.

Johanna hovered near them, not helping, but not scowling either which Katniss thought had to be some sort of improvement.

"You have to make sure the condiment bottles are full every night." Annie said, moving on from the bottles of ketchup to the mayonnaise and mustard. She'd stacked them, about thirty or four, on the table neatly.

"And you fold enough utensils into the napkins beforehand so that the next morning we're not running out. Also make sure the counters are clean – usually Peeta will do that. Him or Brick – they're usually the chefs that close up. Sae, she works here too but only the mornings so you probably won't see her too often."

She pushed three bottles she'd just refilled, throwing a look Johanna's way. A wry smile playing on her lips, Johanna slumped in the seat next to Annie, twisting a creamy colored condiment bottle's top.

"I don't work on Saturdays, because those are the days Finnick usually comes home." She paused, looking at Katniss for a second, her green eyes gleaming brightly. "Finnick is my boyfriend, by the way. I think you met him at the bonfire …"

Katniss nodded, noting that the scowl had made its way back to Johanna's face. Harder and firmer than before.

"He's on the swim team over in Chapel Hill at UNC. And he's training right now so he spends most of his time there. But sometimes on Saturdays he comes home and surprises me!" Annie gushed, her lips turned upwards into a smile larger than Katniss could ever manage. "So, Saturdays it's usually Jo, Peeta, Brick and now, you!"

Annie's eyes drifted towards the clock, an old, large circle hanging over the counter. "Oh! It's getting late, let me show you the kitchen really quickly." She stood, walking towards the kitchen. Her hands frantically flew in the air, explaining what was what and where it was, and Katniss was sure she'd remember none of it by the next day.

She turned to Katniss after a beat, "oh, and meet me here early on Thursday. I'll teach you how to make dressings for the salads and you can start helping out in the kitchen then. But until then, you can just help at the register, with the sodas, the phone – just stuff you did today, basically."

She flashed a large smile at Katniss, walking back to where Johanna sat, picking up a yellow condiment bottle off the table. She looked back at Katniss, "You can go home if you want! You've had a long first day."

Katniss nodded, relieved. She wasn't sure what she just got herself into.

* * *

Katniss fell into the sofa, sprawling her legs across Prim whose eyes were glued to the television screen in front of her, a pink blanket thrown messily across her small limbs.

She picked up her wet hair in her fingers, splashing Prim with a whip of her hair, earning her a sweet giggle from her baby sister who repositioned herself, climbing behind her, gathering Katniss' hair in her own small hands.

As Katniss had seen Prim do for her mother a hundred times before, Prim separated her hair in three sections, combing them through with her fingers before pulling the sections of hair over on another, beginning to twist them into a neat braid.

"You were at the library for an awfully long time," Prim said after a beat of silence, a smile in her voice.

Katniss rolled her eyes, despite knowing that her little sister couldn't see it. "I actually ended up getting a job."

Prim's hands froze, Katniss' hair twisted back into only half of a braid as Prim peeked from behind her, her blue eyes coming into view. "Where?"

"At the diner," Katniss said, her fingers wringing the blanket that barely covered her toes.

She looked back at Prim, her eyes widened in excitement. "Where Peeta works?"

Katniss nodded.

Prim pulled herself back to the braid, her fingers twisting the wet strands of hair again. After a beat of silence, Prim spoke. "I like Peeta."

Katniss smiled, "I know you do."

"He made pasta, it's in the fridge," Prim said, after another beat of silence. "Did you eat yet?"

Katniss shook her head. In the chaos of the day, Katniss had neglected her own stomach's wants and needs, only realizing now as her stomach roared.

She felt Prim loop a rubber band around the bottom of her braid, grazing her fingers down the length of the twist.

"I'll warm some up for you." Prim said, jumping off of the couch, her small feet padding towards the kitchen.

Katniss tucked her feet under her, reaching for the remote. She switched between channels until she found her favorite, the Animal Planet channel. Television didn't interest her much – she found most shows to be banal and shallow and fake. But the animals, she enjoyed watching them not be caged up or donning ridiculous outfits and bows; she enjoyed watching the lions run fiercely through their _own_ humble abodes that consisted only of the grass, the trees and the sky above them. She craved the feeling she imagined them to feel, the wind whipping through their coat of fur, doing as they pleased.

The freedom, the independence. She wanted that. But she knew she could never truly find that for herself – not with Prim to look after.

Prim walked back to the couch, a bowl of pasta in her hands. Katniss eagerly took it from her, forking bites into her mouth swiftly.

Prim rolled her eyes when she realized that Katniss had found the remote, "What are you watching?"

"Big Cat Diary."

Prim seemed to contemplate that for a moment, deciding between wanting to snatch the remote back from her older sister and sitting back and wanting to watch the lions and tigers roam their lands, find food, survive in the wild.

She sat down as the lioness neared a herd of animals, buffaloes.

The pack of large black buffaloes turned to look at the lioness, her golden color shining in the sun. The black, slimy looking animals looked at her, their antlers slightly arched, pointing at her in a threatening manner. She looked back defiantly, her chest puffing proudly.

"I like this show." Prim said, spreading the blanket over her toes. Katniss noticed her toenails were painted a bright pink, something she must've done with Rue that day.

"Me too."

Katniss felt the couch shift under her as Prim turned towards her, looking at her with excited eyes.

"Haymitch ate dinner with me tonight! And then he took me to the store and bought me ice cream."

Katniss looked at her, her own eyes a bit shocked. She hadn't seen much of Haymitch since she'd been here. But then again, she hadn't been home much, contrary to her initial planning.

"He's not so bad. He actually reminds me a little bit of mom." Prim paused, biting her lip softly, her eyes suddenly sad. "Well. Mom before dad died. But he's a little bit like mom now, too."

Katniss set her bowl of pasta on the table, weaving her fingers through her little sisters. It was in moments like these she hated her mother the most.

* * *

It was hard for Katniss at first; talking to the customers, asking them friendly question to which she had no interest in the slightest for hearing the answer. Some customers were painfully friendly, striking up conversation as she asked for their orders, asking her questions with big grins on their faces. Others just offered the minimal response – those were the kinds she liked best.

Smiling came the hardest for her, though she realized that Johanna made no real effort to turn her lips upwards either and stopped trying to force a smile on her face as well.

It only took her a few days though, to realize that sure, the customers saw her, but none of them were actually looking _at_ her. They didn't care for her smile nor for her words; with hungry eyes and salivating mouths, their only care was that there food be brought to them, _pronto_.

She moved from table to table, the pen in her hands moving swiftly over the notepad in her hand, writing down orders. She trailed back to the kitchen, passing Annie on the way who smiled at her, squeezing Katniss' shoulders with her fingers reassuringly.

Katniss reached the kitchen counter, laying down the orders across the musty yellow colored divide. She looked up, catching Peeta's eyes trained on her from the grill.

That was the one thing she'd noticed in her four days of working at the diner – wherever she went, whatever she did, Peeta's eyes tended to be on her, bright blue and kind.

It bothered her at first; she found it unnerving to have someone stare at her, watching her every move. But it didn't take too long before the blue eyes became comforting, reassuring in the face of rude, antsy customers. The days that Annie wasn't working, he was her ally here, she'd realized, and in a way weird way, his constant smiles had grown on her.

"Three hamburgers, one cheeseburger – hold the lettuce." She read off her paper as Peeta neared her, patting his hands on a dish towel.

She could hear Sinatra playing on the radio, soft and low. She'd noticed he listened to the oldies a lot, Sinatra and Dean Martin, Nat Cole King and Mel Torme. It reminded her of her father, of Sundays after hunting and of car-rides.

Peeta looked out the small opening, small beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He let out a small whistle, "We're packed today."

Katniss nodded, "You guys weren't kidding about the crazy Friday's, huh?"

He shook his head, "Nope, people always start their weekends here. It'll wind down though in an hour or two."

Katniss nodded, "Yeah, once it slows down around her Annie wants to teach me how to make salad dressing …"

Peeta's nose scrunched up in disgust. "Here's a warning – be prepared for a _lot_ of mayonnaise."

His eyes flicked to her shirt, an old, frayed black button up. "And remember to wear an apron. I forgot once, and I had to throw the shirt away after."

Her own facial expression mimicked his. She wasn't a fan of mayonnaise. It was slimy and sticky and the smell, in excess, often left her nauseas.

"Peeta, I need that burger." She heard Johanna's voice say from behind her. Peeta nodded, an easy smile on his lips. "Yes, boss." He said, returning back to the grill where Brick, an aging, graying man stood, flipping patties.

"And you, Katniss. It would be helpful if you didn't just stand her talking to our cook and actually moved your ass around, delivering people their food and taking their orders. You know, the shit I'm paying you to do."

Johanna snapped, her fingers snatching a plate full of fries and a large burger from Peeta's hands as her shoulder bumped Katniss' shoulder, her heels turning as she made her way back to her customers.

Katniss felt her fingers ball up into a fist at her sides, and she dug her fingernails into her palms.

She felt an arm on her own, fingers moving in a small comforting circle for just a second. She turned, finding Peeta's small smile, his blue eyes. "Don't … Don't mind her. She's just … She's Johanna. That's just her way."

Katniss made a small 'hmpfh' noise, taking the plates Peeta had set on the counter for her to take back to her customers.

She ignored the smile he offered her, annoyed by his excuses for Johanna.

Sure, Peeta was her ally when it came to Johanna. But he wasn't exactly Johanna's foe either.

* * *

Annie smiled at Katniss, both of them up to elbows in mayonnaise and sour cream.

Katniss wiggled her nose, her face scrunching up as the smell slowly went from just bad to plain unbearable.

Annie laughed, using her upper arm to push wisps of her hair that had fallen to her eyes. "Jo hates it when I come home after doing the dressing. She can't stand the smell either, which is why she never does this. It's usually Sae, Peeta or me making the dressing."

Katniss looked up at her, a bit shocked. "You live with Johanna."

Annie was one of the few people here Katniss had found it easy to talk to, to converse with. Hell, she was one of the few people Katniss could converse with, period. She couldn't imagine someone so sweet, so innocent as Annie living with someone as evil, as bossy as Johanna.

Annie nodded, her eyes understanding. "I know – It must seem weird to you because she tends to come off as … well, as a bitch. But she's really the closest thing I have to a sister. And she's really not as bad as she makes herself out to be. She's got a big, warm heart somewhere deep, deep inside."

Katniss nodded slowly, not sure if she believed that last bit just yet. Not from what she had seen, at least.

Annie threw in the small bowl of dried chives, parsley and other powders Katniss couldn't remember as Katniss continued to whisk the white, pasty looking concoction.

"It might take you a while to warm up to her though," Annie said a minute later. "My boyfriend Finnick and I have been dating for four years and _still_ the two of them cannot get along." She said, wistfully. "Johanna just has a hard time, being polite and friendly. She sort of just doesn't have a filter, she just says what she thinks and that can piss some people off."

Annie dipped her finger into it gingerly, her head nodding in approval. "Perfect, that's perfect."

"That doesn't piss you off?"

A wry smile appeared on Annie's lips, "It does. Sometimes. But she's my best friend, so I put up with it. And Peeta puts up with it. We're the only two people I know who are able to do it for long enough."

"Yeah but Peeta seems like the kind of person who can put up with just about anyone." Katniss said, her fingers reaching to grab the bags of lettuce Annie handed her.

"He is. And he'll do it with a smile on his face, too. But they kind of have a history, so I suppose his situation is a bit different than mine." She said, smiling as she tore the bag of greens open, signaling Katniss to follow suit.

"Now, with the lettuce it's important to remember that every piece you use must be bright, green and fresh. If it's slimy or brown, just throw it away. We use lettuce for almost everything so a bad piece can really screw things up."

Katniss nodded, the instructions regarding lettuce fading in her mind as she processed the last bit of what Annie had revealed to her. Peeta and Johanna had a history. She pictured Peeta's friendly face, his happy blue eyes, his never ending smiles and then remembered Johanna, her hard face, her permanent scowl. It made close to no sense to her.

Annie picked up the carrots next, "And you always peel these before cutting them up. You'd think that would be common knowledge but it turns out its not …"

Katniss nodded again, choosing her words carefully. "Uhm, Johanna and Peeta have a history?"

Annie looked up, confusion clouding her eyes before she smacked her head, the smile back on her face. "I forgot! You're not from around here."

Annie sighed, wiping her hands on her apron, her face suddenly grave and Katniss mimicked her motions. She took a quick look around the kitchen, noticing that the two of them were alone. From the small opening in the kitchen, Katniss could see Peeta's and Johanna's backs. They sat at the table closest to the front, burgers in front of them. After the afternoon frenzy of customers, the diner was now empty save for one customer who Brick was chatting up.

Annie cleared her throat, bringing Katniss' attention towards her. "They dated for a while – it was right after his dad died, two years ago."

"His dad died?" Katniss felt her voice wavering, shaking. Peeta, the boy who smiled at her, smiled at everyone without reason and without fail, had been put through the same hell she'd been. But, she realized with a new appreciation for him, he'd been able to still see the good in the world. Unlike her.

But then again, she thought, he probably had a family to fall back on. A mother who could actually take care of him.

Annie just nodded, "Johanna had already been there, you know? Both of her parents passed away when she was younger. And they just … they found comfort in each other."

Katniss felt sick, she could feel her face turning a pale shade of green. "I didn't know Johanna's parents both died."

Annie nodded, her voice just barely above a whisper. "They committed suicide when she was six, within a month of each other."

Annie handed Katniss a knife and a handful of carrots, and the sound of chopping soon took over the kitchen.

That was her biggest fear after her father died, Katniss remembered. That her mother would kill herself would chase after her father in the afterworld. Wouldn't just be emotionally absent, but physically as well.

"I know I said she's the closest thing I have to a sister, but the truth is that I'm also the closest thing she has to a family."

A wry smile suddenly appeared on Annie's face, "Kinda explains why she's a bitch sometimes, huh? Life's been a little tough on her."

Katniss felt her eyes drifting towards the boy with the curly blonde hair, the girl with the short dark hair – people she had more in common with than she could have ever guessed.

Johanna smiled as Peeta swiped a fry from her plate, swatting his hand and he laughed a loud, happy sound.

* * *

Katniss awoke with a start, the image of her father's car, enveloped in hot orange, bright red flames burned in her mind. She ran her fingers through her hair, feeling the dampness of her sweat-soaked hair.

She reached out to Prim, finding comfort in her little sister's warm hands that lazily sprawled across Katniss' waist, Prim's small toes wedged between her legs.

She lifted her head off the pillows slightly, wiping the sleep from her eyes with her fists fervently. The small, digital clock on Prim's side table blinked, the red flashing 1:10 am. Katniss had only fallen asleep an hour ago, and she was already very aware that the one hour or tortured slumber was the only sleep she was going to get that night.

She never could go to sleep after nightmares like this one.

Katniss slowly peeled herself away from Prim, gingerly lifting her sister's small hand and letting it fall back on the bed. She pulled the pillow that was under her head, tucking it next to Prim's sleeping form.

Rummaging through the pile of clothes on the chair that she had yet to fold into the drawers and closet, she found a sweatshirt and pulled it over. It was Gale's, and it still smelled like him – a specific mixture of the musky scent of boy and cars, a result of the time he spent at his dad's garage, fixing cars and messing around.

She pulled at her shorts; they had bunched up awkwardly around her legs as they often did when she slept, and slipped into pink flip-flops. They were Prim's but they fit her for the most part, though the pink looked weird on her skin.

She padded down the hall, walking past Haymitch's room. She was surprised to find that he'd had dinner with Prim for a second night in a row – though, it shouldn't come as a surprise that Prim had managed to pull their recluse uncle out of his study. Prim had that effect on people, could make anyone do just about anything with just a simple smile.

Opening the cabinets as quietly as she could manage, she searched the kitchen for coffee, craving the bitter taste in her mouth. She imagined her uncle to be an addict of the caffeinated drink, but came out empty handed. Instead, she only found bottles upon bottles of alcohol, and she realized her uncle had a very different type of addiction.

Ordinarily, when she couldn't sleep, she would creep out of the house and walk to the small lake that could be found a mile's walk away from her house, a book in hand. Here, she figured she would have to make do with the beach, hoping the sound of the water would have the same effect.

Going back to her room, she tiptoed to her leather messenger bag, her hands fishing for a book. The leather of the bag was frayed, the color fading in the corners. But it was by far one of her most prized possession; the bag belonged to her father.

Tucking her worn, tearing copy of _Pride and Prejudice_, Katniss silently tiptoed down the hall for a second time, this time heading for the door. Making sure to close the door quietly behind her, she headed up the street, her flip flops slapping loudly against the cement under her.

The mini-mart came into view as she neared the bridge, and the craving for coffee deepened. She fished around her pockets for spare change, a dollar and smiled gratefully as she found a crumpled five dollar bill in Gale's sweatshirt.

"Thank you, Gale." She whispered to no one in particular before walking swiftly towards the dimly lit store.

She pushed the door open, the chimes that rang as she did so startling her. The man at the counter looked at her, a deep frown etched on his face. He looked old, his long hair gray, a small beard on his face. He had a lazy eye, and a large stain on his shirt.

Katniss nodded at him, her standard greeting and headed towards the back, the coffee machines coming into view.

She picked the largest cup they offered, an extra-large, and placed it under the coffee machine. She pulled the metal bar above it, but nothing came out. She pulled at it again for a second time, and then a third but to no avail. She sighed loudly, scanning the store. She seemed to be the only person here, other than the man at the register, and she had no interest in asking him for help.

With another loud sigh, she clasped the cup, pulling it away when a hand from behind her tugged at the bar, wiggling it a few times before the coffee began to pour out, delicious and warm. Katniss pushed her cup back in its place and looked back, expecting the creepy man from the front.

Instead, she found herself staring at a mess of blonde hair and a happy smile. Peeta.

"This thing is kind of annoying but if you wriggle it a few times, it tends to work."

She nodded, "What are you doing here?"

"I couldn't sleep." He said, shrugging, a pack of peanuts in his hand, a soda in the other. "Though, really, I should be asking you that."

She picked out a lid for her cup, clasping it onto the foam. "Me either. And I couldn't find the coffee at Haymitch's." She nodded towards her cup before bringing it to her lips.

"Third drawer from the bottom right. Under the stove." Peeta said as Katniss walked towards the counter. She paid the creepy man, grateful that she had Peeta with her.

She crumpled the singles the man had given back into her pocket, the change jingling loudly as she stepped towards the door that Peeta had opened for them.

He tore the packet of peanuts open with his teeth, offering them to her first. The moon was a size she rarely saw, enormous and so close. It's yellow-y white reflection forced Peeta's blue eyes to stand out bright in the otherwise dark night.

She opened her palm, accepting some. Much like Annie, Peeta was someone who, she'd realized in the last few days, she was able to converse with without tremendous effort.

She ignored the fact that both of these people did enough talking for the two of them and more often than not, all that was needed of her was a nod of her head and a "hmm."

"Where are you headed?" Peeta asked as they stepped onto the sidewalk, their rhythmic steps in sync with one another.

She eyes the bridge, the waves of the ocean just barely audible if you really listened. The only light on the boardwalk came from the small lamp post. Though, it flickered so often she doubted the sole source of light would last long.

Katniss shrugged, "The beach. Maybe."

He nodded, his eyebrows furrowed as he thought for a second. "Mind if I join you?"

The word 'no' formed in her mouth; She wanted time alone, not being forced into a conversation with a boy who she barely knew. Well, okay, after Annie's incessant chatting, she knew a fair amount about him. But he knew nothing about her, and she preferred to keep it that way.

But for some reason she couldn't explain, she couldn't.

"Sure."

He flashed a smile her way, running a hand through his hair, the blonde curls now settled in small waves. His hair was long, shaggy, falling over his ears and hitting right above his eyes. But it suited him, made his face seem friendlier. Happier.

He said nothing as they crossed the bridge, the creaks of the wood hanging heavy in the air. Ordinarily, she had no problem with silence. In fact, she appreciated it. But she wasn't used to silence when she was around Peeta. She was accustomed to his friendly chatter, his lazy, laid-back tone as he asked her questions about everything and nothing as she handed him orders and picked up trays upon trays of food.

The silence compelled her to speak.

"I'm sorry about your dad." She said suddenly. That wasn't the way she meant to start a conversation. But she wasn't exactly good at this, wasn't fond of making small talk with strangers.

He looked at her, surprised, his eye brow cocked as he led her down the wooden steps that connected the boardwalk to the beach.

"Annie told me," she explained awkwardly, wedging her toes in the sand.

He nodded his head, understanding. He walked up a small hill, finding a large rock behind small collection of sand dunes.

"I'm very sorry about your father, too." He said, dusting the surface of the rock before motioning for her to sit.

"Is … Is that why you live with Haymitch?" She asked a moment later as she lifted herself slightly from the rock, wedging her fingers beneath her, allowing them to find cover from the slow, beachy wind.

He sat down next to her, mimicking her actions. "Yeah. Kinda."He said, his eyes staring straight ahead at the water, the waves coming close to shore before making their way back, drawing sand along with them.

She nodded back, feeling like she was treading into personal territory. His silence confirmed that, and she bit her lip. Her conversation skills only went so far and he wasn't exactly offering her much to work with.

She brought her cup of coffee to her lips, thinking that she should probably leave. She'd intended to spend the night alone, not with Peeta. Not with anyone.

"Wanna play a game?" Peeta asked suddenly as Katniss leaned down to retrieve the flip flops she'd abandoned in the sand only a few seconds ago.

She looked up, her eyes doubtful, her eye brow cocked high. "What kind of game?"

"Truth or Dare" He said, his smile a warm invitation.

She laughed out loud, the sound loud in the quiet night. "Truth or Dare? I can't remember the last time I played that."

He smiled sheepishly at her, rubbing his neck with his left hand. In just a few days, she realized he did that often—a sign that he was nervous, or embarrassed. Or both.

"Well, it's like two in the morning right now. Do you have any other ideas?"

She did; she could go to the other end of the beach and read _Pride and Prejudice_ as she had planned, and spend the night in solidarity. But she shook her head instead, "Explain the rules."

"I don't think there are any … You get the choice between truth or dare. You can pass, but then you lose."

She nodded, "I'll go first. Truth or dare?"

He thought about it for a second, his eye brows knit together. "Truth."

She thought about it, wondering what about Peeta she wanted to know most. There were more than a few things that confused her about him.

"Did you and Johanna really date?"

The words tumbled out of her before she could stop them. She supposed that _was_ what she wondered most about – how someone so nice and so warm as Peeta was with someone so… Johanna. But she hadn't meant to ask about it so outright, so blatantly.

He looked at her somewhat surprised. "Annie." She explained again, and he nodded.

"Can't say I was expecting that," He laughed, "I did. We dated a long time ago. After my dad died."

She nodded, unsure of what to say.

He spoke up a moment later, "Truth or dare?"

She thought about it. In any other place, with anyone else, she would never, _ever_ pick a truth over a dare. She would pick an adventure, small or big, over a truth about herself. The word almost formed in her a mouth.

But maybe it was the confidence she found in the dark night, or the inexplicable feeling that she _could_ talk to this boy that she found herself saying "Truth."

He lifted his right leg over his left knee, resting his elbow on it as his chin fell to his hands; He poised his chin in his fingers, pretending to think hard.

"What … is your favorite color?"

She smiled sheepishly; "I'm glad your question was as hard-hitting and ridiculously personal as mine."

He just shook his head, laughing. "I decided to start you off easy."

She nodded appreciatively, "Green."

"Green?" He said, sounding surprised.

She nodded, "Yeah. Like the grass and the trees. It reminds me of the woods near my house where I hunt."

Peeta's eyes widened, "You hunt?" He asked, his voice sounding awed and confused at the same time.

"Yeah," she nodded, "My dad taught me when I was younger."

"Are you going to hunt while you're here?"

She looked around; Cedar Point was a small, beach town with not a forest nearby for miles. "No, there isn't really anywhere to hunt around here." She said, "I didn't even bother bringing my arrows or bow."

He blinked. "So you actually hunt … with a bow and arrow?" He asked, pretending to shoot an imaginary bow and arrow.

She laughed, nodding. "I can also make snares."

"Is all of that legal?" He asked, his voiced still awed in amazement.

"Technically, no. But no one is ever in my woods so no one knows."

"That's awesome." He concluded. "Okay, you're turn."

She thought again, carefully sifting through her thoughts this time.

She vaguely wondered what time it was, as he looked at her expectantly. She asked a question a minute later and he followed up with one of his own, the two of them going back and forth.

And somehow, she spent the night telling a boy she'd just met truths about herself. Small and big, important and totally inane. Little by little, she began telling the boy with the smile little bits about her that she'd forgotten. Like her favorite song – _Home_, and her favorite movie – _Shawshank Redemption._

And she'd discovered tiny bits of him, like the story of how he'd gotten the small scar on his forehead - he'd fallen off the jungle gym in pre-school and had managed to cut himself on the way down. And his favorite flavor of cake – chocolate.

She didn't know what it was about him – maybe it was his eyes, warm and inviting. Or his smile, always encouraging. But she found herself opening up in a way she'd only done before with one person. The way she'd only done with Gale.

* * *

a/n: okay **important news:**_ sorry this is up much later than i had intended. my 3 yr old baby niece was actually diagnosed with leukemia last week and I've been in and out of the hospital ever since. she's going to be in the hospital for the next two weeks and she rarely ever lets me leave her room so i probably will not be able to update until she's home, though i do promise to try. please, please keep her and my family in your thoughts and in your prayers. _

_also, because i've had no time, i had to leave out the last scene i had planned for this chapter so i'll be trying to include that in the next chapter. that's why this is a bit short. anyway, i hope you liked it and **please, please leave reviews!** _


	4. Chapter 4

_a/n: you all are amazing, and beautiful and amazing. and amazing. it's been a while so i tried to make it a bit long for you guys :)_

* * *

Katniss' eyes flicked between the clock that hung on the wall over her and the bottles upon bottles of ketchup splayed across the table, her hands feeling grossly sticky as she re-filled the empty condiment bottles.

It was only eight-thirty, and the diner didn't close for another hour and a half but other than the group of four loud, obnoxiously giggly girls clad in shorts and their bikini tops, the restaurant was unusually empty.

She heard the chair next to her screech as Annie pulled it back, slumping into it with a loud, exaggerated sigh.

"I miss Finnick." Annie said, dropping her head in between her fingers, her elbows propped on the table. He hasn't been home in five days. And he won't be home this weekend either; he's got a competition in Maryland."

Katniss turned her lips upwards in what she was hoping was an empathetic smile, her eyes casting downward, taking in the light blue colored shirt, 'UNC' inscripted in the front in white, bold blocked letters. The shirt was big on Annie's small, bony frame and fell off her shoulders, revealing her tanned, freckled shoulder.

Annie sighed loudly again, this time picking her head up from her hands, grabbing a bottle of ketchup, twisting the top open.

In the week and a half that Katniss had worked here, she'd heard about Finnick maybe ten, twenty times a day. There were days when he was the only thing Annie could think of, could speak of.

In a way that Katniss could probably never understand, Annie's eyes always got this far away look when she talked about him, too. The green in her eyes became glazed, a smile permanently plastered on her face as she recalled memories – the way they'd met, their one year anniversary, and then their second, the way they made their long-distance relationship work. She never ran out of memories to think about, to smile about.

Katniss just smiled as Annie went on, though she noticed she only did so when Johanna wasn't around. And the few times that Johanna happened to catch Annie going on, and on about Finnick, a dark, deep scowl appeared on her lips.

Katniss thought it was odd; but then again, she thought most things about Johanna were odd. She didn't question it much.

After a long beat, Katniss twisted the top of another ketchup bottle and looked to Annie, forcing a smile on her face. "Don't worry. He'll be back soon."

Not much of a speaker, much less a comforter, it was the best Katniss could offer.

Annie nodded her head fervently, using the back of her hand to push the hair that had fallen around her face away. "I know, I know, Katniss. It's just like … It's just that every day without him seems to drag on for_ever_. I mean, I would give anything to just be able to spend like, five consecutive days with him, you know?"

Katniss nodded her head, though truly, she did not know. She did not know what Annie felt, could not comprehend having your happiness depend so fully and completely on someone else, on a boy. She didn't understand wanting so badly to spend a few days with someone – feeling so desperately hopeless without them the way she'd seen Annie feel for the past few days.

Annie suddenly froze, taking in Katniss. She blinked twice, her voice a velvety kind of soft as she poured ketchup into an empty bottle. "I know you think it's probably silly. The way I get …"

Katniss opened her mouth, already shaking her head. She could already count the amount of friends she had in this town on two fingers, she couldn't exactly afford angering half of them by being judgmental.

Annie shook her head back at Katniss, a soft smile on her lips. "Oh, I don't blame you. I'd think I was crazy too. But I just, I love him, you know?"

She paused, her smile growing slightly. "You'll understand. When you're in love, you'll understand."

Katniss nodded her head slowly, unsurely, and Annie laughed. "Just trust me on that one." She said, leaning her chair backwards, turning her head towards the kitchen. "Right, Peeta? Katniss should trust me?"

Peeta looked up, sticking his head through the small opening between the kitchen and the restaurant, a smile on his face, his eyes easy and cool. He was elbow deep in mayonnaise, just a small bit smeared across his cheek. It was his turn for dressing night.

"I have no clue what you're trusting her on but yes, yes you should always trust Annie." He said, his voice authoritative but still soft, his eyes blinking in a small wink before ducking his head back to the enormous bowl of dressing, throwing in a mixture of different powders into it.

Annie smiled appreciatively at him before turning back to her, "See!"

Katniss laughed, her eyes flicking back to Peeta for a second, his blond curls mussed in a hairnet as his face contorted in deep concentration, his hands moving swiftly around the large bowl of dressing.

She turned back to Annie as she stood abruptly, almost knocking her old, rusty wooden chair over.

"Man, I've had to pee like, all day and I totally forgot." She said, scrambling to the bathroom, her legs frolicking in a funny little dance as she made her way over.

Katniss laughed; that was typical of Annie, always surprising her, always able to put a smile on her face, always smiling herself. In a lot of ways, she reminded Katniss of Peeta.

Katniss fixated her attention on the half empty condiment bottles again, decidedly using the time that Annie was in the bathroom to fill at least ten bottles. She worked much, much slower when Annie was around, though it felt like significantly less work, she realized, when Annie or Peeta were around.

Days with Johanna just plain dragged around, and she had yet to meet old Sae.

Katniss squirted ketchup from the all too large plastic bag, filling up the condiment bottle as she heard the little bell above the door of the diner chime. She sighed loudly.

She could have sworn they were done for the night; it never got this slow around dinner time, she was hoping tonight was just an off night.

She looked up, wiping her hands on the black apron she'd forgotten to take off, and stood, turning towards the door, already mentally reminding herself to pick up menus on her way.

She stopped as she took in the familiar face at the door – the flaming orange hair, the emerald green eyes; she knew she'd seen them before.

It took her a second before she took in the deep blue UNC sweatshirt the boy sported and realized, it was Finnick, Annie's boyfriend.

He scanned the room, his eyes resting on the girls sitting on the large round table on the right corner of the diner. His eyes stopped lingered, and the green in his eyes turned darker as he slowly ran his tongue along the length of his bottom lip.

With a start, and a feeling in her gut Katniss couldn't quite pinpoint, she noticed that the endearing, loving look she'd seen him give to Annie at the beach all those nights go wasn't just reserved for her.

Katniss suddenly felt uneasy, her eyes still glued to the tall, large boy in front of her.

He flicked his eyes to her, his eyes still dark and appreciative, a small smirk on his lips, and Katniss looked down, staring at her feet as she slowly, slowly walked towards him, menu in hand.

She stopped when she heard a loud, shrilly shriek, followed by loud thumps and a small body running past her, blurring Katniss' vision.

Annie's arms locked around Finnick as she reached him, her legs lifting off the ground as he picked her up, twirling her, earning Finnick loud, happy giggles from the sweet girl.

"Baby! What are you doing here?" She asked the second her feet touched the ground, her fingers still tracing his face, his hands.

He smiled at her, though Katniss couldn't quite appreciate the way he looked at Annie anymore. "I had tomorrow off, so I drove home to see you." He said, dropping his lips to hers.

Annie kissed him back, her fingers tangling in his hair, "When are you here till? Are you leaving tomorrow night?"

"I don't have to be back until Saturday morning."

Katniss watched as Annie's eyes nearly bulged out, her cheeks shading a bright pink.

She turned her to the kitchen, wanting to gauge Peeta's reaction to Finnick after seeing Johanna's so many times before.

She was beginning to understand Johanna's scowl, she thought.

Peeta eyebrows furrowed slightly, a frown on his face. Though she wasn't sure if she'd imagined it as his face broke out into a friendly smile a second later as he waved his hand, small drops of ranch dressing flying as he did so.

Finnick nodded at him and smiled back, "Hey man, how's it going?"

"Pretty good. How about you?"

"Can't complain. Not now, that I'm with my girl, anyway." Finnick said, wrapping his arm around Annie's waist as she giggled.

"You think I could steal her for the night? It doesn't look like you guys got much to do here anyway." He said, gesturing towards the nearly empty restaurant.

"Of course." Peeta nodded, "You kids have fun." He said, winking at Annie.

Annie looked to Katniss, her green eyes wide, "Katniss you sure you'll be okay here without me?"

Katniss nodded quickly, "Yeah, sure. I have Peeta, anyway. You go on."

Annie smiled, walking to Katniss to hug her tightly, catching Katniss off guard as she always did with her hugs.

"I owe you guys." Annie said, blowing a kiss to Peeta as she reached behind the counter at the front of the diner, fishing under the shelf for her bright pink purse before walking back to Finnick, whose smirk remained in place, lacing her small fingers with his larger ones.

Finnick nodded towards her before turning on her heels, leading Annie out.

Still a little confused, a little uneasy, Katniss walked back towards her table, catching Peeta's eyes on her way.

Catching her by surprise, Peeta's eyes mimicked her own.

* * *

"Truth or dare?" Peeta asked, his hands moving fast as he wiped a table clean before lifting the wooden chairs, on to the creaking tables, arranging them one by one.

Katniss looked at him pointedly, setting the stack of money she held in her hands back on to the counter frustratedly. "You do know that the more times your distract me while I'm counting the cash, the more times I have to start all over, right?"

He grinned sheepishly, moving on to the last table. He moved quickly, she realized. He'd finished most of the tables in the time it would have taken her to do eight, maybe ten.

"Sorry, I'm just no good with silence." He said, a smile stretched on his face as he walked over to the radio near her, turning the dial until the fuzziness died down, a song becoming audible.

He began humming it before she could recognize it, but it only took her a moment before the soft tune became familiar. It was _Blue Moon_, she realized, one of her father's favorites.

She began sifting through the dollar bills again, losing herself in the methodical counting until she heard a loud buzzing as Peeta made his way around the dinner with the vacuum.

She took note of the cash, safely securing it away before shutting off the register, twisting the key from the machine and storing it under the shelf.

She turned to Peeta, who, at the far end of the diner was wrapping the wire of the vacuum around the hooks on the machine, before wheeling it into its closet.

Katniss hopped off of her stool and made her way to counter that sat at the opening in the kitchen, finding two take-out boxes. She picked them both up with her fingers and walked to the front of the door, waiting until Peeta followed her, locking the door diner behind them.

She caught a quick glance at the clock; at 10:45, they had managed to close up fairly easy.

Following their usual routine, Peeta and Katniss weaved through the blocks of tourists on the boardwalk, stepping down the short stairs that led to the beach. Katniss stopped for a second, as she always did, balancing her take-out box in one hand as she pulled her shoes off her feet, letting them dangle off her fingers as she squished her toes into the sand.

She followed Peeta to the dunes, sitting herself down next to him before crossing her legs under her and pulling open the Styrofoam box in her hands, shoveling a handful of fries in her mouth.

She swallowed, watching as Peeta took a bite of his burger before asking, "Truth or Dare?"

* * *

Katniss disorientedly rubbed her eyes as a shrilly bell rang loudly in her ears and pulled her blanket over her face, a sore attempt to block out the obnoxious noise.

Only, a second a later she felt small, cold fingers prying the material of the blanket from her fingers, pulling the covers away from her face. "Katniss, your phone has been ringing all morning. Annie's calling you."

Katniss blinked, staring at Prim's small face, her wet hair dripping onto Katniss' fingers.

Prim looked at her older sister, frustration clear in her eyes. "Katniss! Your phone!"

Confused, Katniss took the phone from her sister, pressing the green button.

"Hello?" she said into the phone, her voice thickly slicked with sleep.

"Katniss, I'm so, so, _so_ sorry to disturb you," Annie's soft voice came on the other line, "But I just have a huge favor to ask. _Huge_."

Katniss lazily rubbed her eyes, pushing herself up into sitting position with her arms. "Uh, sure. What's up?"

"Could you take my shift for today at the diner? I promise, I'll take yours tomorrow. You can have a nice, free Saturday!"

Katniss stifled a yawn, climbing out of bed. There was no point in lingering in the soft, comfortable mattress. She now had to be at work in … ten minutes.

"Sure, no problem."

"Oh my God, thank you so, so much Katniss. Seriously, you're a lifesaver."

Katniss told her no problem before hanging up, heading straight into the shower.

She was going to need a long shower if she had to suffer an entire day with Johanna. And to make it worse, Peeta wouldn't even be there to be her rescue, her saving grace until halfway through the day.

She decided to make it an _extra_ long shower.

* * *

Friday's were always the busiest, with far too many weekend-comers crowding the beach and eventually, the diner. The rush on Fridays began in the morning, too, only becoming significantly worse as the day dragged on.

Katniss walked to three tables, jotting down orders on her pad before walking to the counter, sticking them to the cement for Brick, an aging, balding man she'd seen before and another cook who Katniss had met today for the first time.

She turned around, smiling at Sae who, with her gray hair braided down her back, smiled tiredly back at her. Katniss had met Sae for the first time that morning too, and found that on the days without Annie and Peeta, Sae was the person she could find some tiny bit of comfort in.

Katniss looked up at Brick as he put plates of food in front of her, but she felt arms snaking from behind her, grabbing the plates before she could.

She turned around, finding Johanna's cold, dark eyes, her lips turned downwards in her ever present scowl.

"You." She said, her eyes staring at Katniss blankly, as if she were already bored with the conversation. "Go manage the counter and the phone. I'll take your tables."

Katniss simply nodded – working the counter and the phone was much easier than waitressing, and she wasn't exactly sure why Johanna wanted to switch, but she knew better than to argue.

Tugging at her gray shirt, Katniss walked to the counter, where a small line of customers had already lined up, ready to pay for their meals and leave.

She took money from customer after customer, her eyes skimming their receipts and handling crumpled, and often wet dollars bills.

That was the thing about working at the diner near the beach – nearly everyone came in their bathing suits, handing money that had been thoroughly soaked from the ocean. But she still preferred working at the counter, grossly soaking money and all, because it required the least amount of talking, least amount of smiling.

The customers were usually already satisfied enough from the food, that by the time they reached her, they didn't much care that Katniss didn't talk, or smile much.

Katniss pulled her feet under her as she handed the last customer on the line their change, turning as she felt cold fingers on her shoulder.

She turned around, finding Johanna's blank eyes staring at her once more.

"Go finish your tables. I'm taking the counter again." Johanna said, her voice bored.

Katniss scrunched her eyebrows, confused by Johanna. "Why? You just told me to leave my tables to you and…"

"I know what I said," Johanna snapped suddenly, "But I'm changing my mind."

Katniss stared at her as she stood slowly, huffing loudly. Working with Johanna without the aid of Peeta or Annie was taking a toll on her. She had to remind Annie to never pull this on her again.

She turned on her heel, taking just a step when she heard a sickly sweet voice, forcing her fingers to clench into fists at her sides.

She dug her nails into her palms as she slowly turned, narrowing her eyes at the blonde girl in front of her, her eyes, a piercing blue, staring right back at Katniss.

"You have got to be kidding me." The blonde girl sneered, turning to a girl on her right who Katniss thought looked vaguely familiar, rolling her eyes exaggeratedly.

Katniss stared at the blonde, her jaw locked. She wouldn't speak, she wouldn't scream, she wouldn't do anything. Not here.

She turned to Johanna, "I'll cover the tables." She mumbled, walking from the counter to the kitchen counter, wanting so badly to turn around walk back home, hide under her covers for the rest of the day.

"God, she is such a freaking stalker," She heard Madge's venom coated voice speak loudly, "As if stealing my boyfriend wasn't enough, she had to follow me here and ruin my summer vacation with her ugly face."

Katniss took a deep breath, leaning on the counter, gripping the edge tightly. She watched as her knuckles turned a pasty white, and she was sure her palms would be marked with angry, red indentations in just a second.

She closed her eyes, focusing on inhaling and exhaling and turning back to punch Madge in the face when she felt warm fingers on her hands, prying them away from the counter.

"Katniss, you hold on to this any longer and you might just break it off." A warm, sweet voice said to her softly, chuckling a little bit.

She opened her eyes one by one, finding Peeta's bright blue eyes on her. His eyebrows scrunched up in concern as he flicked his gaze between her and the counter behind her, though his face smoothed out only a second later, an easy smile on his face.

"You feeling okay?" He asked, his lips turned up from the corners.

She nodded, wishing Peeta hadn't seen that, hadn't heard that. Wishing no one had seen that.

She wanted a summer, just one, tiny, measly summer without having to deal without having to deal with this, without having to deal with her.

"You wanna take a break?" Peeta asked, his voice comforting as he ran his hand on her back. "I could cover your tables."

She smiled, the upward turning of her lips taking even more effort than normally required. "I'm okay."

He nodded, smiling at her before turning back into the kitchen, walking straight to the grill.

Katniss gave herself a second before turning her head slightly towards the counter, letting out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding in when she found no signs of Madge.

She risked a glance at Johanna, who just threw her an irritated look, and Katniss could literally hear Johanna's annoyed voice telling her to stop staring and start serving.

She was never more grateful.

* * *

"So, what was that about?" Johanna asked Katniss, trailing behind her as Katniss wiped down tables and lifted chairs.

She glanced at the opening into the kitchen, catching a glimpse of Peeta as he moved around the kitchen, scrubbing the grills.

"You know," Katniss said, turning towards Johanna, "You could help me clean up instead of just walking behind me."

Johanna rolled her eyes, "No, I prefer to watch you do it. So, what did you do to that girl to make her hate you so much?"

Katniss huffed, lifting a chair to the table. "Nothing."

Johanna walked to the counter as Katniss moved to the next table, hopping up onto the counter, prying open a Styrofoam take-out box, stuffing a handful of fries into her mouth. "But she said you stole her boyfriend. Did you?"

"No."

"But –"

"Johanna," Peeta interrupted before she could fire another line of questions, "Leave Katniss alone."

Katniss through a grateful smile at him, and he smiled back, picking a few fries from Johanna's box.

Surprisingly, Johanna's questioned paused; she picked up her burger in her fingers, bringing it to her mouth.

"Actually, I guess I get it. She did look kind of like a bitch, anyway." Johanna said a moment later, her mouth full of beef and bun as she spoke.

Katniss mumbled a reply, wiping down her last table, attempting to hide her victorious smile.

Johanna slurped her soda behind Katniss loudly, letting out a loud belch. "What are you guys doing tonight?"

Katniss looked to Peeta, unsure of what to say. No one really knew they hung out, spending large chunks of their sleepless nights on the beach, and she wasn't too sure she wanted anyone to know.

It was nice to have something no one else knew about, to judge and to misconstrue.

Peeta hopped up onto the counter next to Johanna, biting into his own burger hungrily.

"I don't know, probably just hanging around." He said easily, "Why did you have anything in mind?"

"There's that party at Tarky's. But Annie's with Finnick tonight," Johanna said, her face contorting in disgust, "And I don't wanna show up alone."

Katniss saw Peeta smile, both of them realizing this was Johanna's indirect way of inviting them. Of course, Johanna Mason couldn't straight out invite people to hang out with her; that was just asking for too much.

"Yeah, that sounds good." Peeta said, his eyes dropping to the black watch on his wrist, "We could go now, its fifteen past eleven."

Johanna nodded, finishing her burger before shifting her gaze to Katniss. She looked her up and down twice, her eyes squinting.

"How about we meet your there, Peeta? Katniss and I need to take a trip home first."

* * *

Katniss tugged uncomfortably at her shirt, but to no avail. If she pulled Johanna's bright pink shirt down to cover her otherwise bare plane of her stomach, her boobs spilled out of the V-neck. And if she pulled it up to cover her chest, she was practically left naked.

"Oh, will you stop fidgeting! It's a crop top; it's supposed to look like that. And you look good in it, so stop ruining it by spazzing out every five seconds." Johanna snapped as they walked into the large, brick house that she assumed belonged to a boy named Tarky.

Katniss let out a sigh, taking in her surroundings. Flushed, drunk kids spilled out of rooms in every direction and from where she was standing, she could see a keg stand in the middle of the kitchen. The kitchen counter was lined with beers and other colorful, glass bottles.

This wasn't really Katniss' thing, she realized. She wasn't exactly sure what she was doing here.

She turned to Johanna, who, in her short black dress and beautiful purple make-up, her hair tied high in a pony-tail, stood out, gloriously beautiful, and wondered if she could find a reason to leave, make up any excuse.

She stopped when she saw a tuft of blonde curls come into view.

"Hey guys!" Peeta said, a soda can in his hand. "Wow, you both look really nice."

Katniss smiled uneasily, but Johanna tossed a happy smile his way, the gesture looking odd on her face, as she patted his arm.

"Leave it to you to drink a soda at a party, Mellark." Johanna said wrly, "Now _I_ am going to go get drunk." She said, stalking towards the kitchen.

Peeta stuck his hand in his pocket, "You want something to drink?" He asked, nodding towards the kitchen.

Katniss nodded, following him to the kitchen. She skimmed through the cans and bottles of alcohol – she'd never drank before, and she wasn't going to try it out tonight. She wrapped her fingers around a soda can, looking back at Peeta.

"Let's go to the deck," He said, wiping small beads of sweat off his forehead. "It's much less crowded."

She nodded, her cheeks suddenly blazing as Peeta's hand settled on her back, leading her to the kitchen, his fingers leaving a tingly feeling on her skin.

She focused on the soda in her hands, the cold from the can spreading to her fingers as she stepped onto the wooden deck.

Peeta was right; there deck was almost empty save for a few guys who were smoking cigarettes. She followed him to the wooden stairs, sitting down on the second step next to him.

He was quiet for a second before turning to her, "The pink looks nice on you. It's very … colorful." He said, his eyes crinkling into a smile.

She grumbled, "Yeah, Johanna wouldn't let me leave the house unless I wore something other than black. And gray."

Peeta laughed, "Yeah Johanna can be pretty convincing that way."

Katniss bit her lip – she was better at talking to Peeta than she was with most people, but she still often found herself with nothing to say.

Lucky for her, Peeta could always sense as much.

"Truth or dare?"

She nodded, grinning "Sure. I think it's your turn. I asked you what your most embarrassing memory was last."

"Right, peeing my pants during my eighth grade camping trip – good memories, thanks for bringing them up again." He said, his face shading slightly pink as he rubbed his neck, smiling. "Alright, for you … what is your favorite show?"

Katniss' smile spread wide across her face, "Okay, so my favorite channel is the Animal Planet channel …"

Peeta's eye brow cocked high, his eyes amused as they often were when she revealed her truths.

"And there's this show called 'Untamed and Uncut' and it's just a bunch of different encounters with animals. Like animal fights, or animals hunting and things going wrong … you know, it's just the animals." She shrugged, not knowing how else to explain it.

She used to get nervous at first, expecting Peeta to think her answers were weird or freaky, expecting him to stop talking to her or at least keeping a safe distance.

But Peeta just accepted whatever she said, always an open, easy smile on his face. He didn't think it was weird that she learned to make a snare before she learned the alphabet, or that she spent almost all of her Sunday's in the woods since her father died. He didn't think it was odd that she didn't have too many friends back home, nor did he question why she knew how to skin a squirrel in the first place when she explained her first experience of doing so. And thankfully, tonight he didn't ask about Madge either.

He just took what she offered him, asking for nothing more.

"I like the Animal Planet, too. There's not much to watch on TV but you can kinda find some interesting stuff on there. Like, have you seen that show where people tell their survival stories? Some of those people are just insane!"

She smiled, she did know, it was another one of her favorites.

"I feel like you can be on there some day – a crazy story about how you shot down a bear or something." He said, laughing.

"I'm sure my father could have made it on the show, he had some interesting hunting stories. But he didn't tell me too many of them. I think he thought I'd find them to be more inspiring than crazy."

Peeta shook his head ferociously, still chuckling. "Yes, I can definitely see your dad's point there."

He took a breath, "Alright, Katniss Everdeen. Hit me."

She thought about what she wanted to ask him – it always took her a few seconds to think of questions whereas Peeta always seemed to have another one up his sleeve, ready to ask at any moment.

"What's the worst thing about living in this town?" She asked a few moments later.

He mulled it over, thinking his answer through as he always did before verbalizing it. "Well, other than the obvious lack of the forests and trees…" he started, smirking at her, "I guess the fact that it's such a small town. Everyone knows each other here, and consequently, everyone knows everything about each other. There isn't really such a thing as secrets in this town. Not well kept ones, anyway."

"But in a way," he continued, "That's also one of the best things about living here. I mean, the fact that everyone knows each other and is so close. For example, I went to high school with each person in this house right now and we all grew up together, so we all really know each other, you know? And when I needed some place to live, Haymitch knew my dad, knew me since I was a kid, and he let me live with him. It's kind of like having a really giant, enormous family."

Katniss nodded; where she came from, it definitely was not like a big family. She came from a town that drew a clear divide between the wealthy, and the poor. And the disparity between the two was obvious, in the way people acted, in the way they dressed. They were far from a family.

She wondered if now was the time to ask, why he lived with Haymitch, why he had nowhere to live at one point.

As she contemplated asking him, a girl stumbling from the side of the house, towards the deck caught her eye. She was a fairly tall girl, legs skinny and gangly walking towards them clad in shorts and a tank top. Her hair, looking almost white in the moonlight, fell to her shoulders, straight. She stumbled as she neared them, squealing loudly as she hung on to the railing of the wooden stairs to stop her from falling, catching Peeta's attention, too.

Her eyes, dark in the night, grew wide as she noticed them, a smile spreading across her face. "Peeta!" She said, a bit loudly, clearly drunk.

She stumbled into Peeta's lap, falling into him.

He looked surprised, but smiled at her, his arm wrapping around her to keep her from falling. "Hey, Delly."

"Hi, Peeta." She repeated, smiling, her face flushed, tinted a bright pink. She let her head fall to his chest, as if it were the most natural thing for her to do and Katniss couldn't believe that in all this time, in all the games of truth or dare, Katniss hadn't asked Peeta if he had a girlfriend.

She also couldn't believe that he hadn't mentioned it to her, either, to be honest.

The blonde girl looked at Katniss suddenly, as if realizing her presence for the first time. Perhaps it really was the first time, Katniss thought.

Delly looked to her, and then to Peeta, "Peeta! Won't you introduce me to your friend?"

Peeta smiled sheepishly, "Oh, right. This is Katniss, she's Haymitch's niece, she's visiting for the summer. And Katniss," he said, turning towards her, adjusting Delly on his lap as he did so, "This is Delly."

"Hi, Katniss!" Delly breathed, and Katniss could smell the alcohol on her breath. "It is so very, very nice to meet you. I think I actually met your little sister the other day with Rue! They came by to the flower shop where I work. Prim, right?"

Katniss nodded, clutching her soda can tightly in her fingers.

"Oh, she is such a precious little girl, a sweetheart, really."

Katniss nodded again, not knowing what else to say.

Delly sighed loudly, leaning her head against Peeta's. "Peeta, will you take me home? I'm sleepy." She said, yawning for good measure.

He smiled fondly at the pretty, blonde girl in his lap, nodding. He helped her stand, standing up himself and Katniss followed suit.

"I, uh, I'm gonna go find Johanna." She said, pointing back towards the house as Peeta fished through his pockets for his keys, holding a sleepy, hazy-looking Delly with one arm.

Peeta looked at her, his eyes brows knitted together. "I can drive you home, we just have to drop Delly on the way but I mean, we're kinda going to the same place afterwards." He said wryly, his lips turned upwards in a crooked smile.

Katniss dug her fingers into the pockets of her jeans awkwardly, desperately not wanting to be the third wheel.

"I actually need to get my shirt from Johanna's house so…" She mumbled, stepping back towards the house.

"I'll see you later, though." She said, avoiding the confused look on his face, and the happy, dreamy smile plastered across Delly's face.

She turned back to the house, an awful, weird churning in her stomach. Maybe she should have eaten that burger slower, she thought, regardless of Johanna's yelling that she was eating at a snail's pace.

She scanned the room for her brown haired friend, and found her by the keg-stand, talking to the same boy Katniss had seen her with at the beach all those nights ago.

She walked towards her awkwardly, throwing her now empty soda can in the garbage as she entered the kitchen. Johanna caught her eye, waving her over.

"Where's Peeta?" She asked as Katniss neared her.

Johanna looked buzzed, her cheeks slightly flushed, but not nearly as trashed as Delly had been just moments ago.

"He went to go drop a girl named Delly home." Katniss explained, tugging at her shirt as she noticed Cato's eyes fall to her chest.

Johanna looked confused, but she shook it off. "Alright, well, I'm ready to call it a night if you are." She said, glancing around the room. "This is just getting lame. And we'll just be cleaning up puke soon."

Katniss nodded, and Johanna turned to Cato, snaking her long, wiry arms around his neck as his fingers gripped her waist. She whispered something in his ear, marking it with a bite before kissing him hotly.

She turned to Katniss, handing her the keys. "You drive, I'm too drunk." She said, swaying her hips as she stalked towards the door.

Katniss climbed into the car, twisting the key into the ignition. Taking a few turns to start up, she started out of the drive way, and with her eyes closed, Johanna directed her towards her house.

A short three minute drive later, she pulled up into the small, gravelly drive way.

Johanna turned to her, finally opening her tired eyes. "Come in, get your shirt."

Katniss nodded, handing her the keys, following her up to the small, one bedroom house Johanna and Annie shared.

They heard the TV, a song playing loudly, before they even stepped into the house and the two girls looked to each other, confused.

Johanna looked through her keychain quickly, pulling out a small, short retractable knife before twisting the door knob slowly.

Johanna jumped back as she pulled the door, her hand flying to her heart.

"God dammit Annie!" Johanna yelled, her voice hoarse. "You scared the shit out of me."

She threw her purse on the table in the center of the living room, kicking her tall, black heels to the corner of the room. "What the hell are you doing home?"

Annie pulled the blanket up to her shoulders, her legs splayed on the couch lazily, her eyes glue to the television screen in front of her. Her shoulders dropped as she spoke, "Finn's coach wanted him home tonight instead of tomorrow morning."

Taking both Annie and Katniss by surprise, Johanna snorted loudly. "Right."

Annie's turned towards her sharply, her eyes narrowing to tiny slits. "Don't, Johanna. Stop doing this every time."

"Okay, I'll stop doing," She threw her fingers in the air, drawing quotation marks in the air, "this, when you stop living in denial and stop believing him. I'll stop doing, _this_, when you realize that him going back to UNC early for practice really just means him going back to screw some girls, I'll stop—"

"Johanna." Annie screamed, the anger in her voice sounding strange laced in her sweet voice. "Stop. You're just jealous because Finnick is sweet, and nice and perfect and Cato is the biggest damn whore in this town."

Johanna laughed, strange and maniac sounding, "Yeah. Right. I'm jealous that you're dating a boy who is screwing other girls while you're sitting here, putting your life on hold for him. Right, I'm jealous. That's it." Johanna spat back, her voice hard.

Katniss looked between the two, unsure of what to do. She suddenly realized the thing she needed to do was to leave. Now.

She crept backwards towards the door as the two continued their screaming match, shutting the door as quietly as she could manage before taking a deep breathe.

She didn't even know what had just happened.

* * *

Katniss heard a car stall behind her as she climbed the steps to Haymitch's, her feet tired and aching from the night. She heard the car door slam, Peeta's voice following it.

"Hey." He smiled at her, walking towards the side of the house.

She walked towards him, leaning against the porch. She felt goose bumps prickling her skin and she rubbed her palms down her arms, finding a tiny bit of warmth.

"Hi."

"How was Johanna's?" He asked, sticking his hands in his pockets, his blonde hair tangling as the wind picked up slightly.

She contemplated telling him about what she witnessed, unsure if she should, wondering if it was too personal. "It was … weird."

He nodded, almost knowingly.

"How was Delly's?"

"Oh, I just dropped her home, she was pretty much knocked out by the time we got to her house."

"I, uh, I didn't know you had a girlfriend." Katniss blurted out, resisting the urge to clamp her fingers over her face afterwards. She hadn't meant to say that, not out loud. She looked away embarrassed, realizing that this wasn't the first time she'd managed to say something without thinking it through first around the blonde boy.

He laughed loudly as she turned back towards him, "Oh, Delly's not my girlfriend. She's, uh, well, she used to be. But that ended a long time ago."

Katniss sheepishly looked away again, rubbing her palms over her arms faster, not knowing what to say, secretly wondering just how many ex-girlfriend's he'd had.

She was going to just skip out on the beach tonight, she thought. She'd had enough embarrassment for one night.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" Peeta asked as Katniss began to pull away from the wooden railing, attempting to go hide back in the house, under her covers.

Katniss nodded, "sure."

"Well, I have to show you something before I ask you…" he said, "Come into my room for a moment and I'll show you."

She nodded, unsure of where this was going, but trusting Peeta enough to follow his instructions anyway.

She stepped into his room behind him, realizing this was the first time she'd ever seen his room, his home.

It was small – crowded and chaotic. It was the garage, after all, but as she looked around, taking in her surroundings, the colors and the warmth, the exuberance she felt just within the room, she realized the room _was_ Peeta. It was so _very _Peeta.

There were pieces of art hanging around the room, small and big, some intricate and ornate, others simple and beautiful.

There were colors everywhere, on the walls, on the floor. There was a small sofa in the middle of the room, covered in pillows and a blanket, a small, ancient looking television on a table five feet from it. There was a pale green fridge on the other corner, looking every bit as ancient as the TV.

Katniss found herself drawn towards the paintings, her eyes glued to the colors, to the figures.

"These are beautiful, Peeta." She breathed, staring at a piece in front of her. The swirls of black and white, gray and blue the texture, rough and angry. A small figure stood in the center, looking broken, looking fragile.

In her head, she always figured Peeta to draw happier things. Unicorns and rainbows. These painting's almost stole her breath away.

Her eyes flicked to another painting on the right, bright pink flowers in a field. She raised an eyebrow, looking at him.

"This one," He said, pointing to the flowery painting, "Prim and I made this morning. She was really excited about it."

Katniss smiled, the painting did remind her of Prim, surprised Prim hadn't mentioned it to her.

"But," he said, picking up an enormous folder, "This is what I wanted to show you."

He pried the folder open, revealing sketches of people, most of them familar. She gazed at them as he spread them out; the first one was of Annie and Johanna, smiling, their arms around each other. They looked like sisters, happy and loving, and she shuddered as she thought about how she last saw them.

The next one was of Sae, a small beautiful girl clutching her fingers. Sae looked old, but wise and glorious, and happy, Katniss realized. Not tired, the way she did when Katniss saw her this morning, hauling trays of food and drinks to customers.

A sketch of Prim and Rue followed, both of them sprawled in the sand, Rue's happy dog licking Prim's face. The smiles on their faces almost came to life on the waxy paper, Katniss thought admiringly.

Katniss turned to Peeta, amazed that she knew all these tiny, trivial details about Peeta but hadn't ever bothered to see his art, magical and beautiful.

"These are just sketches," he said, "I haven't finished them yet – But, I'm applying to the Bern Institute of Art for the spring and these are a part of my portfolio."

The Bern Institute of Art was only a twenty minute drive from her house; Katniss had passed it a thousand times on her drives with her dad to the lake. She knew a few kids from her high school who had gone there, though she'd never spoken to any of them.

You had to be spectacular to get in to BIA, she knew as much, though. And as she glanced at all the sketches for a second time, she knew Peeta would get in. He _was_ spectacular. Beyond it.

She faced him, telling him as much and he thanked her, his eyes modest, his cheeks tinged pink.

"I have to do two more to complete my portfolio," he started, pausing, rubbing his neck the way he always did when he was nervous, "and uh, I was wondering if I could draw you."

Katniss felt her eyes grow wide – she never even took pictures, despising the feeling of having others' eyes fixated on her.

She pictured Peeta drawing her, his eyes staring intently at her face, at her flaws and her scars and felt her face burn hot with embarrassment.

She shook her head, "I don't know if that's such a good idea…" She started, stopping as she saw his face drop.

"If you're worried about it taking too much time, it won't, I promise. I work pretty fast – we could work on it when the rush slows down at the restaurant, or we could try and do it in one sitting if you come over one night, or something -" Peeta explained, his hands flying eccentrically in the air as he tried to convince her with his words, his eyes large and earnest.

She felt her palms prickle, not knowing how to tell him no. Not sure if she _wanted _to tell him no.

Katniss felt her heart race under Johanna's silky, smooth hot pink shirt as she found her voice, "Okay."

He looked at her, surprised, confused. "Okay?"

She nodded, "Okay."

* * *

_a/n: guys, thank you thank you thank you for your support, your prayers and thoughts, and your patience. you guys are the most amazing group of people I've ever, ever written for. my little niece is back home and done with her first round of chemo, and so I wrote this chapter quickly for you guys in two days as soon as I got home and had the time. _

_i can't tell if i'm moving too fast/too slow/just right with Peeta and Katniss and the story overall but you all let me know what you think :)_

**_don't forget to review, please :)_**


	5. Chapter 5

_a/n: so, so sorry for the long wait. hope you guys like it :) and sorry for the extra emails! was acting wacky :(_

_also: disclaimer - sorry to all the finnick and madge fans out there, i swear i love those two characters as well, but in this story, they're kind of unpleasant. sorry D:_

* * *

Katniss ran hand along the length of her braid, tugging at as she tucked her feet under the shelf of the counter, balancing herself awkwardly on the cold, metal stool.

The diner was surprisingly slow, only a few people meandering in and out. There were more vendors on the boardwalk than normal, she noticed, attracting more customers in the sun than the diner did, probably in anticipation for the Fourth of July fireworks that would be held on the beach later that night. She looked to Annie, who was typing away furiously on her phone as Johanna stood by her, a scowl set deep on her face.

Growing up, Katniss hadn't really had very many girl friends. Or friends, for that matter. And she wasn't too sure of what she expected when she returned to work Saturday morning, after witnessing, what she believed to be, a full on blow-out. She'd never really had gotten into a fight with Gale in the past – not like that, at least. And she worked so hard to protect Prim from anything bad, anything hurtful that she barely ever disagreed with her baby sister.

But, as if nothing at all had happened the night before, as if Katniss had dreamt up the fight, the harsh words, Annie and Johanna set to work together, sharing their usual looks and laughs.

It confused Katniss, beyond, in fact. But she chose not to dwell on it; she didn't quite understand how these things worked anyway.

She felt warm, calloused fingers brush hers and she shifted her attention, blonde curls coming into view. Peeta pushed a cupcake her way, chocolate frosting swirled carefully on top as he lifted himself on to the wooden counter.

His blue plaid button up shirt matched his eyes, the stark blue on his face seeming even brighter than usual.

Katniss quirked her eyebrow at him, and he smiled indulgently as she lifted the cupcake to her lips. She licked the icing, carefully swirling her tongue around the chocolate, her fingers working on pulling the waxy liner from the cake.

She bit into it silently, thick chocolate frosting blending in with the sweet, spongy taste of the cupcake.

Her eyes grew in delight as she bit off another piece, "Strawberry?"

She raised both eye brows this time, and he smirked, nodding his head.

Katniss bit into the cupcake once more, feeling the crumbs dance around her chin, skittering across her skin. She moved to brush the miniscule pieces of the cupcake from her face, but felt a warm, rough finger trail across her skin instead, wiping her skin free of the crumbs, leaving an odd, burning sensation in their place. She heard Peeta's low chuckle follow.

"Man, you're like, the messiest eater ever. Even Prim doesn't make this big a mess." He said, a teasing smile in his voice.

Katniss scowled at him, her lips back on the sweet pastry, the taste of strawberry swimming happily across her taste buds. She gave him a pointed look as she took extra measures take a clean bite.

He smiled at her, nudging her with his knee and she squinted her eyes at him, "What do you want?"

He guffawed, the sound loud in the otherwise quiet diner. Katniss noticed both Annie's and Johanna's heads whip towards them, a glint in Johanna's eyes as she watched them in curiosity.

"Can't a friend just bring a friend a cupcake?" He asked, his blonde curls falling into his eyes. He shook them away, running a hand through them afterwards to keep them in place.

"No. You didn't bring Johanna or Annie any cupcakes. Or Brick." Katniss retorted, confused as his smile grew, stretching wide over his face.

She wasn't sure if she'd ever seen him without a smile on his face. She tried to visualize him with a frown, a blank stare, but they both seemed odd, even in her head. Peeta always smiled. He was meant to smile.

"Okay," He relented, lifting his feet to settle beneath her stool, his knee brushing hers. "I just wanted to say thank you, for agreeing to do the portrait.

"And," he rubbed his neck sheepishly, "maybe guilt you into it a little bit if you were planning on back out on me."

She rolled her eyes, stuffing the last of the strawberry cupcake in her mouth.

"There's more where that came from, by the way." He added, his voice low and gruff, and Katniss thought maybe he meant for it to be seductive. He followed his words with a wink, affirming Katniss' suspicions, and she burst into a fit of laughter.

Katniss wasn't really one to smile, let alone laugh – there came a point when she couldn't even remember what it felt like to turn your lips upwards, to feel the happiness bubble out of your chest and explode out of your mouth – and it amazed her, how easy she found it to laugh at Peeta's words, at his jokes.

Not for the first time since she'd arrived to Cedar Point, she felt like there was something about him, something about this boy with the brightest blue eyes and tousled blonde curls, that made her feel different, less like herself. In a good way.

"Fine," Katniss said, lifting her left leg over her right, leaning forward just a tiny bit towards Peeta.

"I promise to do the portrait if you keep making me cupcakes. Strawberry, only." She said, nodding towards the now empty cupcake liner that sat crumpled in the garbage can next to Peeta's foot.

Peeta leaned forward, eagerly sticking his hand towards her, "You've got yourself a deal, Katniss."

"When do we start?" She asked, leaning back in her stool, suddenly realizing how close the two were.

"What are you doing tonight?" Peeta asked, also straightening himself back on the counter, his fingers gripping the edge of the wood.

Katniss shrugged; Prim had planned to go see the fireworks at the beach with Rue, and though the two had asked her to come along, Katniss hadn't much felt like it. She planned on spending the time at home, alone. And although Haymitch was likely to be home as well, him being there was just as good as him not being there. She hadn't really seen much of her uncle in the past few days – though she did hear Prim brag about how she'd gotten him to do something with her each day. Her little sister had even managed to drag their old, drunk uncle out for a walk the other day.

"I wasn't really planning on doing anything."

Peeta kicked the leg of her stool gently, nervously.

"Wanna come see the fireworks with me? We could go back and work on the portrait afterwards …" He said, his nervous habit of rubbing his neck returning.

Katniss hesitated, feeling reluctance rise in her throat. But she knew there was no point; she never could say no to Peeta Mellark and his happy, wonderful blue eyes.

She didn't want to know what they looked like when they were let down.

She nodded, telling him sure, and was rewarded a blinding smile as he promised her that he would bring her a cupcake, hell, he would bring her five and she wasn't too sure if the excitement pouring out of him came from her promise to start the portrait later that night, or from accompanying him to the fireworks.

She glanced back at his smile, and decided that it didn't matter. She didn't have very many friends, but she knew the few that she did have, she'd do anything to make them happy. And her small list of friends now included Peeta.

Katniss lifted her eyes as she heard a bell chime, her eyes focusing on a tall, broad body. She squinted, blinking twice before she felt a smile, the biggest she'd worn in a long time, stretch across her face.

She stood from her stool, the metal screeching too loudly under her, and wound her arms around the tall frame that now stood in front of her.

He smiled like pines, grass, and the fresh air. He smelled like home.

She heard him chuckle under his breathe, "'s good to see you too, Catnip."

* * *

Katniss felt her toes dig into the sand as she pulled on Gale's arms, her fingers clutching to the soft, cotton material of her shirt.

The sand was warm, hot under her toes, an odd change from the coldness she usually felt when she ventured to the beach at night, Peeta by her side instead of Gale.

She led him to the dunes she'd come to know well over the past few weeks, and positioned herself on the sand, Gale's large form settling in next to her.

Katniss agitatedly wiped her brow, feeling the beads of sweat pool on her skin. She preferred the beach far more at night, when the wind was chilly and the sand was cooler. She looked to Gale, who, in his jeans and shirt, looked as out of place at the sunny beach as she did.

She leaned on him, despite the heat and heavy air, and rested her elbow on his leg. "What are you doing here, Gale?"

He smiled at her, leaning back on his palms, making no effort to shield his face from the blinding sun. He wore stubble on his face, making him look older than he really was, and the glasses perched on his nose were a bit lop-sided. Typical.

"Well, I remembered that today was the Fourth of July. And I realized we've always watched the fireworks together, at the meadow. I didn't feel like watching them alone."

She opened her mouth to tell him that he wouldn't be alone – he was never alone, not with the all of his brothers and sisters around. And he wasn't exactly unpopular with the girls in their town, either. But she shut it, not saying anything. In far too many ways, Gale was much like her. Annd she was sure this was his way of telling her he missed her.

Neither one of them were very good with words.

As if remembering the myriad of girls that followed Gale around for the first time, Katniss' eyes widened as she remembered a certain blonde, and a certain unhappy, irritating encounter.

"I saw Madge the other day."

Gale's head whipped towards her, his eyes matching hers. "Where would you see Madge, here?"

"She came to the diner when I was working. Guess she's visiting down here."

Gale cursed under his breathe, the rock he was playing flying from his fingers, bouncing across the tan, warm sand.

He turned towards her, his eyes weary. "Tell me she didn't say anything to you."

Katniss bit her lip, knowing that lying to Gale would do no good for his already heightened temper.

"It wasn't a big deal." She mumbled, drawing circles in the sand with a stick she'd found lying next to her foot.

And she wasn't lying. It _wasn't_ a big deal – she'd gotten used to Madge's sour words. In fact, Madge wasn't the only one who'd thrown petty, stupid words her way. But Katniss never given them much thought; she just wished Peeta and Johanna hadn't been witnesses to that.

It almost felt like she lived two lives at this point – the one at home that she'd come to associate with loneliness, with darkness, almost save for Gale and Prim. And the one here at Cedar Point where there were no petty girls, no bitter words. Not even loneliness, she realized. Not with Peeta's unyielding ability to make conversation, to keep talking to her despite her quiet nature.

This was a life, here in Cedar Point, where somehow, somehow she had managed to make a friend or two.

She turned back to Gale, his eyes apologetic, tired. "I'm sorry."

Katniss shook her head, a wry smile on your face. "Not your fault you date the psychos, Gale."

Gale laughed her off, before a sudden seriousness taking over his features.

"Speaking of …" he started, speaking slowly, drawing the words out carefully. "What's up with you and the blond dude?"

Katniss looked to Gale, her eyes incredulous, a snort of laughter escaping her. "'The blond dude?' You mean Peeta?"

Gale shrugged his shoulders, nodding.

"I guess. I don't know – you guys just … I guess you just looked pretty comfortable around him. And you don't exactly -"

"He's my friend." Katniss cut in, irritated by the edge in Gale's voice she couldn't quite define.

Katniss understood Gale's protectiveness; he'd been protective, he'd worked hard to make her feel sheltered, to feel comforted ever since her dad died – his whole family had filled in for their empty, hollow mother. And she felt the same way about him – he was her friend, the best one she'd ever had, and she would do just about anything for him - but she never once interfered with whom he chose to become friends with, and she expected the same from him.

He looked at her, his hand shielding the sun from his eyes, an odd weariness in his expression, before he nodded his head once, resigned.

Katniss could tell he had more to say, could almost see the way he was biting his tongue, but ignored it, suddenly feeling weird, sitting behind the dunes.

This wasn't her spot to share - not in broad day light, not with Gale. It was Peeta's spot, and hers. And it almost felt wrong to occupy it without him, without their endless game of truth or dare, without his unyieldingly happy smile.

* * *

Katniss laughed in amusement as she threw the blanket she held in her hands to the floor before spreading it open, watching as Prim threw a hundred questions at Gale, each one having to do with his little brother, Rory.

Gale sat down on the old, raggedy blanket, his long, large legs stretching out in front of him, sharing the same amusement Katniss held on her face as he turned towards Prim. "No, Rory has not found a girlfriend in the few weeks you've been gone, Prim." He said, laughing.

Katniss folded her feet under her as she took her place next to Gale. Prim sat in front of them, Rue next to her, Rue's dog that the two girls never seemed to be without sitting in between them.

She watched, wearily, as her sister lovingly tossed an arm around the golden retriever, her fingers affectionately grazing around his ear. The dog licked her finger in return, and Prim giggled a happy, sweet noise.

She knew between Rue's dog, and Peeta's cat Buttercup, there was little chance Katniss would succeed in avoiding Prim's pleas of getting a pet the second they got home; but they couldn't afford it, she already knew as much.

Their mother could barely afford their rent, and Katniss often had to chip in with her share of odd jobs and hunting to help out money, and food for their small family. More than anything, though, she wanted to avoid her sister's sad, pouty face; the look of heartbreak was one Prim was never too good at concealing.

Prim turned to Gale once more, her lip caught in between her teeth. "You're _sure_ Rory doesn't have a girl friend? Not even Katie Flanagan? I think she liked him …"

Gale laughed, and Katniss rolled her eyes. She didn't much appreciate the feelings her sister held for Rory – it wasn't him that she had a problem with, in fact she loved him like a little brother. She loved all of the Hawthorne's like family. Prim was just far too young. She was only nearing her thirteenth birthday, and already her mind revolved around boys.

At thirteen, Katniss couldn't afford to think of much else other than how to deal with a broken mother, and a home without a father. She didn't have time to think of much else, let alone boys.

Often, she still felt the same way.

But her sister was different; her sister was more like the other girls Katniss knew. And she couldn't reprimand her sister for having a crush on a boy, even if she was just thirteen. She'd grown up with Rory, he was her best friend. She supposed, it was only natural for Prim to feel that way.

For a millisecond, she wondered if it was supposed to be that way with her and Gale, as well, but she pushed the thought out of her head the second it came in. Gale was her friend and she'd never thought of him as anything else. He was, after all, her only friend who had stood by her through everything. Despite his girlfriends, despite the differences in their friends at school, the differences in their respective lives, he was her rock.

He was one of the few people, she felt, who understood her best. She wouldn't give up that up for anything.

Katniss leaned back, let her legs stretch out in front of hers, mimicking Gale's position, as she scanned the beach. It was crowded, more so than she'd ever seen before. Everyone in the town, it seemed, had brought their blankets and chairs, chips and drinks and other things in hands, ready to watch the show.

She knew the fireworks in Cedar Point were supposed to be spectacular; they often showed them on TV. But, compared to the ones in her own town, just about anything would be more spectacular. The fireworks that lasted all but two minutes, behind the town's elementary school, left little to amazed by.

Her eyes settled on a small bonfire, masses of people crowding around it. It reminded her of her first night, a similar scene forming in her mind. She looked around the dancing flames, her eyes finding a familiar face.

Blonde hair and body that looked too tan, too bulky; he looked at her, his lips forming a smirk, and she realized it was Cato. He winked at her, and Katniss quickly turned away, finding Johanna close to him, Annie next to her. Annie waved, smiling widely and Johanna managed a grimace, her eyes flickering between Gale and her.

Behind them, she found Peeta, his finger wound tightly around a beer bottle, Delly chattering next to him. He was wearing a different shirt than the one she remembered this morning; it was a bright red shirt, and it made his hair look almost white, even in the darkness of the night.

He glanced her way, and his hand rose in a half wave before he dropped it, looking to Gale and Prim.

His attention shifted to something else, and his face broke out in a smile, all happy and Peeta. Two blonde, floppy braids came into view, and Katniss whipped her head towards where Prim was sitting. She was gone. She turned back to Peeta, and noticed that Prim had already reached him, and was clutching to him tightly.

She said something to him, and he lowered himself, crouching at face-level with Prim. He shook his head, still smiling, and tugged one her braids playfully before she frolicked back to their blanket, sitting down with a loud thump.

Baffled by their exchange, Katniss turned to Prim, who had her back towards her, whispering something happily in Rue's ear.

It surprised her, Peeta's relationship with Prim. Prim wasn't hard to love; she easily wormed her way into everyone's heart, and mostly everyone treated her with as much as kindness and love as she showed them.

But the way Peeta did it – the way he always made sure to bake all the things she liked, and the way he fulfilled his promise to teach her to paint, the way _she_ looked at him like he hung the moon – that was different. It was a good different.

Gale brought her out of her thoughts, shifting next to her. She knew he'd seen the exchange between Peeta and Prim, and was probably more confused by it than she was, but he bit his tongue, turning his head up towards the sky.

"Damn," he said after a beat of silence, "the stars are really amazing out here. Much brighter."

She looked up, following his gaze, though she already knew the words to be true. The two of them lived in a city, one filled with factories upon factories. The layer of gray fog that hovered over their town rarely dissipated enough for them to see the true darkness of the night sky, let alone the stars.

It was one of the few things she'd first noticed when she'd arrived at the beachy-town. Just about everything here was so perfect, so picturesque, she wondered how her uncle fit in here. His disgruntled and generally unhappy appearance made no sense in a town as beautiful, as nice as this.

Katniss turned to tell him that when she saw him visibly tense up next to her, his hands clenching into large fists near her sides. He made a low, murmured hissing noise, shaking his head lightly.

She followed his gaze, stopping short when she saw a pair of icy blue eyes on her, squinted and angry.

She rolled her eyes, turning to Gale, noting that he was now staring out aimlessly at the water in front of him, his eyes focusing on the waves as they rose and crashed on to the sand, the sound of them as soothing as the view.

But his attempt at ignoring Madge only lasted a few minutes as she walked up to them, a beer bottle loosely dangling in her fingers.

She stepped onto the blanket, kicking sand in Katniss' general direction and she felt her own fingers curl into fists, though she reminded herself to remain cool. Madge Undersee was the last person deserving of any of Katniss' attention.

An angry, ugly, artificial laugh bubbled out of the blonde girls chest, her free hand falling to her hip as she clicked her tongue.

"Well, Gale," She slurred, her eyes unfocused, "Nice to see you here."

He sighed, turning his head toward her. "Madge ..." He started, his tone of voice holding a warning in itself, "Just, just don't, okay?"

His voice came out more tired than angry, and Katniss felt her own anger rise at that.

She laughed again, the bottle in her fingers rising to her lips. She took a sip, wiping her pink, pouted lips with the back of her hand.

"C'mon, Gale." She said, her eyes darkening, "Just admit it. Admit it that you cheated on me with _her_." She said, suddenly casting her eyes towards Katniss, a sneer on her face. "It's about time you stopped protecting the whore."

She felt something move next to her, and turned towards Gale, who had risen from his seat on the floor and was moving towards Madge, his face hard, angry.

Katniss quickly looked to Prim, wanting so badly to send her away – this wasn't something her baby sister was to see, to hear, to know about, even.

But before she could hear the line of profanities and harsh words she already knew Gale was about to spit out, she heard a happier voice.

"I'm so, so sorry about my cousin, she's just had too much to drink" Delly said, standing next to Madge, pulling at her hand. Her voice was laced with the apology she was verbalizing, and a hint of worry.

She looked down to Katniss, her eyes registering in recognition. "Oh! Katniss! I don't know if you remember me from the other night …"

Katniss nodded her head, she did remember. Delly was Peeta's ex-girlfriend.

"I'm so sorry," she repeated once more, "She doesn't even know what she's saying."

Katniss nodded her head again, though she had a feeling Madge knew exactly what she was saying. Her words were no different now than when she was sober; though, sober, she would never manage to say those words in front of Gale. She usually reserved them for when Katniss was alone.

Katniss watched as Delly's small form dragged Madge towards the crowd hovering near small pit of fire, thrusting a water bottle in her hand.

From the corner of her eye, she could see the tuft of blond, curly hair, and blue eyes, looking at her questioningly, confused.

She suddenly felt aggravated, angry that for the second time, the horrors of her life at home had found a way to merge into the life she had made for herself here.

She knew Johanna and Peeta hadn't bothered to ask about Madge and her accusations the first time, but she wasn't sure she'd be so lucky for a second time.

She turned to Gale as he started issuing an apology, a cluttered mess of words as he tried to tell her to pay no mind to Madge.

"She's just … she's crazy. And psychotic." He muttered, finishing up.

Katniss only laughed, not knowing how else to make sense of the situation, and shrugged off his apology. He wasn't responsible for Madge, he didn't need to apologize.

"Well, wasn't she lovely." She heard a wry, sarcastic voice say after a moment of silence, and she turned to find her uncle, sitting next to Prim, his own bottle in his hands, looking completely and fully out of place in his plaid pants and his black sweater.

Gale's eyes widened as he realized the older man's presence as well, and stuck his hand out, "Gale Hawthorne, sir."

Haymitch's eyes narrowed on him, but he asked no questions as he silently took it, shaking it limply before turning to Prim.

"When does this damn show start?" He mumbled, and Prim giggled, locking an arm around their uncle.

"I think just a few more minutes, Uncle Haymitch." She replied, "But I'm really glad you made it."

He mumbled his response before taking a swig of his bottle, his head turning, scouring the crowd until he found Peeta. He lifted his hand up to him, and Peeta lifted his back, giving him a pointed look, nodding towards the bottle in his hand before looking between Prim and Haymitch.

And to Katniss' surprise, Haymitch scoffed, but set his bottle aside, far out of reach, and let his palms fall behind him as he stretched himself out on the blanket.

Prim noticed the bottle, its distance from Haymitch, and her lips immediately turned upwards. She looked back, her eyes locking on Peeta's, and the little girl's smile threatened to eat up her entire face.

* * *

Katniss pulled on her sweatshirt, her feet slipping into the nearest flip-flops she could find, before she padded out of her room, walking past Gale's sleeping form on the couch.

Gale had slept over her house only a handful of times before, though she never once told him about her wakeful nights, her nightmares that plagued her in the darkness if she let her eyes close even a second too early. She could only sleep when she was tired beyond the capability to think, to dream.

She walked to the porch, taking a seat where she usually did the rare nights when Peeta and her didn't venture to the beach directly from the diner.

The temperature had easily dropped at least a few degrees from when they were at the beach, the fireworks colorfully bursting over their heads, and she clutched her sweatshirt to her a little bit tighter, wishing she'd worn pants instead of shorts.

She waited, and waited, until eventually, she rose to get her torn, and worn copy of _Pride and Prejudice_.

Eventually, she stood up, wondering, almost angrily, where the heck Peeta had disappeared to. It wasn't like him to not show up – they hadn't gone a night without a game of truth or dare in too long now.

She stepped down the porch, walking towards the side of the house.

The light from the small window in the garage peered out, spilling onto the dark pavement, near her feet. She peeked in a little closer, wondering if Peeta had gone somewhere, or passed out.

Him forgetting was not a likely option.

She scoured the room, her eyes flittering past the various paintings and canvases, past the odd, small corner of the room that was covered haphazardly in various sheets, until her eyes landed on the sofa that had been pulled out to form a bed, a mess of blankets heaped on it. Just near the corner, she could spot mussed blonde curls, face hidden under the covers.

He hadn't forgotten, he's just chosen to not come, instead, Katniss realized.

* * *

Katniss lazily opened one eye after the other, using her arm to block the sun pouring in from the window.

She turned to the wall, looking for the only clock in the room. Her eyes widened as she realized the time; it was almost one in the afternoon.

It had taken her hours to fall asleep; the sun had risen well into the blue sky, and the bird's had made it near impossible to sleep. And even then, it wasn't the kind of sleep that she could appreciate. It was the kind that kept her tossing and turning, unable to find comfort in the depths of her unconsciousness.

She hurriedly lifted the blankets off of, leaving them in a haphazard pile behind her as she raced to the living room.

She noticed the couch, empty, save for the blanket that was now folded and left to the corner and Prim's body, her legs sprawled on the table in front of her, the ugly, orange cat in her lap.

"Where's Gale?" She asked, turning her head towards the kitchen, looking for her tall friend to appear.

Prim stroked the fur of the cat as her eyes were glued to the television screen in front of her, and with its mashed-up nose, and discolored fur, the cat raised its head, nuzzling into Prim's gentle arms. "He left early. He had to be back at work by ten."

Katniss plopped down next to her sister; she remembered him saying something about having to leave early, and she knew she should have put an alarm on, to wake her before he left.

She stood back up a few moments later, her stomach suddenly ravenous, and padded to the kitchen, a plate of strawberry cupcakes awaiting her.

She picked one up, biting into it as she walked to the fridge, finding the carton of milk at the very back.

She poured herself a glass, and one for Prim as the smaller girl fell into a chair next to Katniss', picking up a cupcake in her hands as well.

As she sat down, she saw Prim staring at the small cupcakes, the swirly chocolate frosting, the pink cupcake liners.

She looked up at Katniss a moment later, "Peeta said that these were for you…" She said, the words coming out of her unsure.

Katniss smiled, taking another bite. "I know, they're my favorite."

* * *

Katniss sighed, noticing that the crowd at the diner had far exceeded the small crowd from the day before; Saturday nights were always rough, sometimes the worst days of the week.

She forced a smile on her face as she took the order at table 10, ignoring the scowl on Johanna's face as she walked past her, heading towards Peeta. She stuck the sheet of paper with the order on the counter, and he took it with her, a crease between his brows, unusually silent.

She stood there for a second, trying to think of something to say to him, but she knew it was of no use. She wasn't the conversationalist in this relationship, he was. And without him, they were both stuck in a silence that screamed too loudly in her ears. Especially without Annie to help her figure out Johanna's surprisingly angry mood.

She looked at Peeta once more as he set plates of food on the counter, and remembered the way he'd greeted her when she arrived to work. The same half-wave he'd sent her way the night before, at the beach.

She finally mustered up her courage, and lifted a hand to his shoulder.

He looked up abruptly, as if noticing her presence for the first time.

Maybe it was for the first time, she thought. Maybe he'd been having an off day, or an off night - since he hadn't bothered to show up for their usual night-time walk around the beach. Maybe, he just wanted to be left alone; she could understand that feeling, she knew it far too well.

He turned, his stark blue eyes locking with hers, warm and kind. "Are you okay?" She blurted, and his eyes widened in surprise.

"Yeah, of course." He said, an easy, soft smile gracing his face. But it wasn't the same. It was off. It didn't reach his eyes, not the way that it normally did. Not the way that it should.

She hesitated, not knowing what else to say. "Okay."

He smiled again, still as hollow as before, and nodded. "Okay."

She sighed, an anxious feeling in her stomach.

"Okay," she said finally, grimacing as he turned and walked away, the silence back in its place as she picked up the plates of food, arranging them on the empty tray before walking towards table four.

* * *

Katniss wiped a table down as Johanna sat at the counter, her fingers moving quickly around the cash spread out on the wooden surface.

She could hear the music blaring from the kitchen, the back of Peeta's head bobbing to the rhythm as he scrubbed the grills. It was an oldie, it always was when Peeta had control of the radio, and once again the music reminded her painfully of her father, of their shared moments, of the long car rides.

She lifted the chairs on to the table for moving towards the last table; her and Johanna had split the work, splitting up the tables as well, but somehow, Johanna always finished in much less time than her, something that forced Katniss to work even harder, faster.

She wiped the table down quickly, and piled the chairs on to the table for moving to stand in front of Johanna, tugging at her fingers nervously, wringing them.

Johanna's eyes snapped towards her, and the frown on her face set deeper.

"Are you just gonna stare at me or are you going to vacuum, like you're supposed to?"

Katniss, taking Peeta's first bit of advice he'd given her when she first started working at the diner, ignored Johanna's harsh tone and irritated words, stepping closer to her.

"I need to ask you something." Katniss said, leaning on the counter.

Johanna slapped wad of cash she was holding in her hands onto the table, her eyes squinting at her. "What?"

Katniss took a deep breath; she didn't exactly enjoy having to come to Johanna for anything, much less for advice. "Is Peeta okay?"

Her eyes snapped back towards Peeta before shifting back to Katniss, a look of unabashed boredom on her face. "Why wouldn't he be?"

Katniss bit her lip, trying to think if she'd been responsible for his unusual sour mood; in her mind, Peeta was never without a smile and it almost disconcerted her to see the blonde boy in a bad mood.

Her mind wandered to the odd, half-wave he'd given her the night before, at the beach. She hadn't paid much mind to it then, but she should have, she now realized.

It couldn't have been her, though; he wasn't angry at her. He'd even left her the cupcakes in the morning.

The cupcakes.

Suddenly, she felt her stomach drop.

He hadn't forgotten about her, but she had.

The portrait, the fireworks, the smile on his face when he'd asked her.

Johanna looked at her oddly, finally giving in, her interest peaked by the look on Katniss' face.. "Alright, what is?

"He asked me to do a portrait …I was supposed to meet him yesterday. But Gale came … and I just, I forgot. I was supposed to go to the fireworks with him and then we were going … we were going to do the portrait."

It _was_ her fault; how could she have forgotten?

Johanna's eyes widened, but she re-gained composure a second later, the look of irritation back on her face.

"I knew it. I knew it." She repeated, picking up a wad of cash, wrapping a rubber band around it.

"What did you know?" Katniss pressed, her voice hard, but a sinking feeling taking over her gut.

"I knew," she said, drawing out her words in a hushed tone that forced Katniss to lean closer to her, her eyes hard and angry, "that he was the idiot who liked you, for some God-forsaken reason. And you're the bigger idiot who didn't even realize, and then brought her boyfriend down here to rub it in Peeta's face."

Katniss ignored the insults – both of them – as she process Johanna's words. Peeta liked her? Was Johanna making that up? Had he told her? How did she come to that conclusion?

"Gale isn't my boyfriend." Katniss snapped, earning a roll of the eye from Johanna. "And how do you – what? Did he -?"

"No. He didn't tell me that. But I knew it. I knew it, and the fact that he asked you to do the portrait is proof enough."

That didn't make any sense; how did a portrait lead to him liking her? "He also did a portrait of you and Annie. And Prim and Johanna. And some other people. I'm not the only –"

"Yeah, he did Annie and I because we're practically family and he literally fawns over those little girls like their angels sent from heaven or something. But he asked _you,"_ Johanna said, her finger pushing into Katniss' chest, "Because he likes you, he wants to spend time with you. Why else do you think he invited you to the fireworks?"

Katniss mulled this over, still trying to make sense of it all in her head.

But Johanna just shook her head at her, rolling her eyes once more, exaggeratedly. "God, you can be so stupid sometimes. Have you not seen the way the boy looks at you all the time? That's a hint in its own that he likes you."

She stood, the metal screeching loudly in Katniss' ear. "Get your damn head out of your ass, Everdeen."

Johanna walked towards the vacuum, and switched it on, the buzzing noise roaring loudly in the diner.

Katniss looked to Peeta, her forehead creased as she took in Johanna's words, her accusations once more.

Peeta lifted his dirty, almost brown apron from his chest and hung it, picking up a white Styrofoam box from the counter.

His eyes focused on her, and he lifted his lips in a half smile. A sad smile, that once again failed to reach his eyes and turned, exiting the diner from the back door.

* * *

_a/n: like i said, sorry for the wait! i had finals week and things got a bit hectic :\ BUT, to make up for it, i have a funny/cute video for you all. this is basically what my niece and i do at the hospital :) stupid won't let me put up the link here, though, so just check out my profile, if you'd like :) :)_

_also **thank you thank you thank you** for your reviews! can't believe i'm even over a hundred! haha, so thanks, and don't forget to review and let me know what you thought of this chapter :)_


	6. Chapter 6

_a/n: thank you, thank you for the reviews, the alerts, favorites, everything. your guys' support and encouragement got me to write this chapter much quicker than I had anticipated. so, thank you!_

* * *

Katniss clutched her sweatshirt tighter to her frame, her head falling onto her shoulder. The cotton of the sweatshirt still smelled like Gale – the musky, tell-tale scent of boys, cars and oil. But the material had also clung to a new scent, a foreign scent that didn't quite belong to Gale.

It was the distinct smell of the sand, the cool air, the saltwater. It was a smell so specific to here, to her summer.

If she pulled it close enough, she could almost smell the scent that radiated off of Peeta as well from the material – it had, after all, spent almost night after night in his presence. The smell of Peeta was a warm one; sugary and sweet, of cookies and cupcakes. Sometimes, after a long day at work, the smell of hamburgers and fried food would linger on his shirt, but never could it over power the smell of all things sweet emanating from the blonde boy with the gloriously blue eyes.

That kind of sweet, the kind that only Peeta could manage to radiate, was not the kind to be challenged or overlooked. It simply overpowered everything else, almost overwhelmed a person – but some, Katniss had found, he did so in the best way possible.

As she flipped open her haggard, too-worn copy of _Pride and Prejudice_, letting her eyes fall to a random page, she stared at the words uncomprehendingly as she her mind drifted to Peeta, to the sweetness of his being.

Katniss knew she had to apologize – spending four nights on her creaky, wooden porch accompanied only by her overused copy of one of Jane Austen's finest had solidified as much to her. She just didn't know how, didn't have the words.

It was her weakness – the art of speaking, of forming coherence through words. She just didn't know how. She didn't know how to speak, she didn't know how to befriend others, and most painfully obvious, she didn't know how to trust.

But somehow, with Peeta, together they had managed to do all three. She had managed to speak to him, without the pit of reluctance filling her gut. And with that, he'd managed to befriend her, and above all else, he had managed to gain her trust, had managed to open Katniss up, to let her think and speak freely.

In a world where she was so very well versed in acting as the care-giver, the mature adult, Peeta had somehow managed to make her feel her age again.

And then, he'd managed to shut her out.

Katniss discreetly glanced towards the side of the house, wondering if the patterns from the light of the garage would spill onto the grass, letting her know if he was home or not, or if he was even awake.

With a quick look at her watch, she decided he surely had to be awake. It was only one AM, and though he'd never told her, and she'd never asked – mostly in the fear that he would flip the question onto her – she knew he kept the lifestyle that she did, only sleeping when he really, truly had to.

Katniss lifted herself from her position on the couch, stretching her legs under her. She much rather preferred the soft, cool sand to the creaking and jagged wood of the porch, but found it to be almost unnerving to sit at the beach by herself. She just wasn't used it.

She padded down the short steps of the porch quietly, leaving her book on the discolored, almost gray wood, and walked barefoot over the soft, cold grass to the side of the house.

Reaching one hand, gingerly, to the small window that allowed her to peek into Peeta's room, she met a haunting darkness, and immediately knew he wasn't home.

Peeta slept with his lights on, his face covered under a sea of blankets, with just the tendrils of his blond curls peeking out from under. She'd learned as much over the span of the past few nights.

She sighed, already dreading her next day at work. With just Annie to rely on, the diner was almost unbearable. And with every sweet, sad smile Peeta through her way, and every deliberate move he made to avoid speaking to her, avoid eye contact with her, she felt the pale blue, greasy walls of the dainty restaurant close in on her just a little bit more, effectively suffocating her.

She turned, the goose bumps on her legs prickling her skin, and decided to turn in for the night. Her time would be spent better tossing and turning in bed than reading the same words on the fading pages of her book and probably catching a cold from the wind that had picked up.

She stopped short though, as she found a pair of stark, wonderfully blue eyes staring at the grey, small shards of her own.

He seemed to freeze as she did, his eyes somehow different than before, guarded. He crosses the pavement of the street, suddenly looking wary, a large cup of coffee clutched tightly in his fingers, a large, white canvas in his other free hand. He tilted the canvas cautiously, effectively blinding Katniss from the image he'd painted on to the coarse material.

Katniss shifted as he neared, and responded to the half-wave he threw at her with an unrecognizable, forced smile of her own. She suddenly felt nervous, a feeling that felt foreign and unwelcome. At least around him.

"Hi." She offered meekly as he stepped on to the grass, nearing her.

"Hey," He said, his eyes still guarded, different. His voice wasn't it's easy, happy self either, she realized.

Scowling for a quick second, she wondered _why_ he was so angry. She'd forgotten to meet him, she knew that – but it wasn't the end of the world. He could have joined them at the fireworks when he had clearly seen them, he could have reminded her.

Just then, unwelcomed, Johanna's words made an ugly reappearance in Katniss' head. "_Have you not seen the way the boy looks at you all the time? That's a hint in its own that he likes you."_

She hadn't seen the way he looked at her; at least not until he stopped. In the world she grew up in, the life that she had lived, she had never much paid attention to any of that. She hadn't had a boyfriend, hadn't even ever kissed anyone. The only guy she had even allowed to come close to her, other than her father, was Gale. And Gale was to her what Prim was to her. He was her brother.

But, as she looked at Peeta's eyes, the dull aching in her stomach returned and Johanna's words rang clearly in her head. And somehow, they almost made sense.

But, unfortunately, that confused her even more – she was inexperienced, needed to be guided. She didn't know what it was like to like someone. She didn't know how she was supposed to react when someone liked her. This was uncharted territory for Katniss.

For now, she decided, she simply just wanted to regain his friendship. She knew how to do that; or at least she hoped she did.

She stepped to him as he reached her, and opened her mouth, only to close it a second later. She opened it again, and closed, not sure how to start. She gnawed at her lip, not knowing what she wanted to explain or how she wanted to explain it.

Encouraged by the faint amusement swimming in his eyes, Katniss opened her mouth again.

"I'm sorry." She blurted, sticking her hands forcefully into the pocket of her hoodie, twisting her fingers.

His eyebrow quirked, a small shadow of a smile lingering on his lips for a quick, few seconds.

Katniss huffed in frustration, the thoughts in her brain too jumbled for her to form a cohesive sentence. She took a breathe.

"I'm sorry," she repeated, "for forgetting about the fireworks. And the portrait – Gale showed up and it totally slipped my mind. I'm sorry."

Peeta's turned up in a wry smile, his eyes humorless but softer than before. "It's okay, Katniss – I'm sure it had been a while since you'd seen your boyfriend. It's understandable –"

Katniss let out a snort of laughter, her eyes wide with the accusation and Peeta stopped mid-sentence, his own eyes bright with confusion, questions.

"Gale isn't my boyfriend … he's, he's like my brother. My best friend."

Peeta nodded slowly, and Katniss continued, "I know you're angry but –"

Peeta interrupted her this time, his voice softer, sweeter, _his_. "I'm not … I _wasn't_ angry. I just …" He paused, nervously rubbing his neck. "I just … I guess I just, I thought Gale was your boyfriend." He sputtered, his neck turning a light shade of pink.

Katniss shook her head, pulling her hands out of her sweatshirt, awkwardly placing a hand on Peeta's shoulder, the material of his orange shirt soft under her palm. "I'd still like to do the portrait … if you want."

She had to make it up to him, this was a way she knew how.

He regarded her for a moment, capturing his lip with his teeth, "Are you sure? I know you weren't sure about it before, and I didn't really think of it when I asked you but it's kind of time consuming and stuff. It could take a while."

She nodded quickly, eagerly. "I'm sure.

"Not like I do much at night, anyway," she added a moment later, shrugging, a small smile on her lips.

His lips mimicked hers as he nodded, "Cool. Awesome. We can start tomorrow, after work?"

She nodded again, and stepped to the side, allowing him access to his room.

He flashed a smile at her, his teeth bright in the darkness of the night as he wished her a good night, before walking to his room.

Still too awake to sleep, she walked back to the porch and folded her legs under her, picked up her worn book in her icy fingers.

She flipped to a random page, her eyes scanning the words she already knew by heart when she felt the wood under her creak and moan.

Alert, she looked up quickly, her hunter's prowess awaking from its long slumber.

She sighed, relieved as Peeta lowered himself next to her, handing her a wool blanket that she graciously accepted. She spread it over her chilled legs before throwing it over Peeta's body as well.

He leaned back on his palms and smiled at her, the kind that reached his eyes, and she set her book down.

"Truth or dare?" He asked.

* * *

Katniss fidgeted as she tried to keep still on the metal stool, Peeta's hands moving swiftly across the coarse material of the large canvas in front of her, drawing her.

She didn't know how to do this, really – keep still for such a long period of time. She was an antsy a person, a girl on the go.

She shifted in the seat once more and a wry smile appeared on Peeta's face, his lips stretching wide as his fingers stilled.

"Man, you really are not patient, are you?" He asked, setting the canvas to the floor.

She narrowed her eyes at him into tiny, gray slits. "I can, I just … I get bored." She mumbled.

He laughed, covering the cotton canvas with a large, black sheath before walking the short distance from the back parking lot to the back door of the kitchen, leaning the painting by the door.

"We can continue tonight, if you want? At my place?"

Katniss eased herself out of the metal stool, wincing at the piercing squeal it let out as the metal shifted, and stepped in next to Peeta, nodding her head. "Sure."

She peeked to catch a glimpse of the painting they'd worked on for two days now, but instead he tilted it away from her, securing the black material over the square frame. "Wait, why are you covering it? I want to see what it looks like."

Peeta's lips turned up, a secret hidden in his smile. "Not yet! You can't see it until I'm completely done."

"What?" she snapped, her voice louder than she intended for it to be.

His smile widened, his eyes a gleaming blue from the reflection of the too-bright sun.

"Did I forget to mention that?" he asked, walking back towards the paints, sealing the lids. His plaid black and red shirt hung loose on him, his jeans splattered with paint.

Katniss lifted her fingers to the paints, twisting the lids backs on the opened canisters, and mumbled an incoherent mish-mash of words under her breath. She stopped a second later as she realized how much that specific action reminded her of her disgruntled uncle, Haymitch.

Peeta chuckled under his breath, and Katniss knew he was thinking the same thing.

Wordlessly, she followed Peeta into the kitchen, the grease and humidity from the grills palpable in the air. Mimicking the blonde boy, she piled the canisters into a large, brown bag.

She stared at the painting for a moment, wondering if she could see anything past the black sheath that covered the cotton canvas. She squinted her eyes, but to no luck. He had covered the painting completely.

She let out a frustrated huff, flushing as she caught Peeta's gaze on her, and he laughed, shaking his head.

Ignoring him, she headed towards the front, smiling at Annie as she whizzed past her, a tray of burgers and fries in her hands. Johanna walked beside her, nothing but a notepad in her hands.

The second girl scowled at her, her eyes questioning, her dark hair piled to the top of her head.

Katniss grimaced at Johanna, their conversation from a few days ago rearing its ugly head in her mind yet again.

Annie smiled at Katniss, shifting her sparkling green eyes between her and Peeta, questioning, but pleasantly so. She turned to look at Johanna, and rolled her eyes at the deep frown she wore. Annie nudged the darker haired girl, making a face at her before Katniss looked away, heading back towards the counter.

She didn't know what _that _meant. She didn't quite know what any of it meant.

* * *

Katniss groaned as she lifted her hair to her face, the stench of fried foods filling her nostrils immediately.

It was the one aspect of working at the diner that she couldn't adapt to – constantly smelling like fries and patties. It was an overwhelmingly sweet smell, made worse by joining forces with the scent of the saltwater and the sand – the result from spending a few quick minutes munching on burgers near the dunes with Peeta. The combination of smells was one she couldn't bear to smell for a second longer than she had too.

She tossed her shirt to the side and slid out of her dark jeans and under garments and stepped into the steaming water.

After the clinking, cluttering noises that infested the diner throughout the day, Katniss enjoyed the quietness of the shower, just the steady hum of the water as it descended upon her, her limbs loosening with each hot, scorching drop of water.

The serene quietness of her shower, however, was short-lasting as she heard a small click, followed by footsteps padding across the cold tiles of the bathroom floor.

Confused, Katniss peered her head out from behind the shower curtain, only to find Prim sitting on the yellowing white porcelain of the bathroom counter, clad in her pajamas, a hairbrush in her hand.

She raised an eyebrow, careful not to let the suds of the shampoo dripping from her hair into her eyes. "Hey there, little duck. What are you doing in here?"

Prim's beautiful blue eyes danced in excitement as she tucked her feet under her, the bristles of the brush moving swiftly down her blonde strands.

"I didn't see you all day and you're probably going to go hangout with Peeta soon, again. So I thought I'd talk to you while you were in the shower…" she said, shrugging.

Katniss' eyes widened, suddenly feeling alert. Prim was right; Katniss had been seeing less and less of Prim as the days went on, sometimes only seeing her for the few hours she had in the morning before she went to work.

With guilt filling her stomach, she realized that that outside of work, she'd been mostly spending her time with Peeta.

Her eyes softened, "I'm sorry little duck, I didn't mean to –"

Prim rolled her glorious blue eyes playfully, a sweet smile playing on her lips. "Don't say sorry! I like that you hang out with Peeta. You're more … _you_."

The younger girl paused, biting her lip, and Katniss gingerly lifted a finger to her forehead, swiping at the shampoo that was beginning to drizzle across her face.

"Like, before dad died." Prim added, her voice suddenly small and quiet. Her eyes brightened up a beat later, the smile back on her lips, "Besides, I really like Peeta."

Katniss shook her head at her baby sister, rolling her eyes before she stepped back into her shower, combing her fingers through her soapy hair. "I know you do."

"He's helping me," Prim's sweet voice added a moment later, "with uncle Haymitch. He's getting him to drink less. Uncle Haymitch gets a little cranky about it, sometimes. But Peeta helps. He's good at it, too."

This was news to Katniss, though she had noticed some hints before; the way Peeta had looked at him the night of the fireworks popped into Katniss' mind.

She didn't know _why_ Peeta helped, or why Peeta even lived here. When it came to the sweet, happy blond boy, there were so many questions unanswered.

But she never managed to ask – she knew she had many questions unanswered herself, and truly, she'd prefer if they remained unanswered. She had too much she didn't want to share with anyone, and she was sure Peeta felt the same way.

Regardless, she was grateful. Not because it helped Haymitch, but because it seemed to genuinely bring joy to Prim.

After another long beat of silence, just the water from the showerhead humming as it pattered onto her skin, to the porcelain of the tub filling the room, Prim's small voice called out again.

"Katniss, d-do you think, maybe, when we go home, we could get a pet? Like a cat?"

Katniss groaned inwardly, knowing that the topic of pets would come up soon. After the amount of time her little sister had spent with Peeta's cat and Rue's dog, the question was simply inevitable.

"We'll see."

Prim let out a loud, exasperated sigh. "But, like, just a small cat, Katniss? Buttercup doesn't bother Peeta _at all_. You don't even have to take a cat out for walks or anything. They just sit and purr and look cute."

Biting her lip to contain the grin that threatened to take over her face, Katniss tried to adopt a stern voice, repeating her words. "I said we'll see, Prim."

Prim huffed, her voice laced with a whine, "Fine, I'm going to bed."

Katniss heard soft footsteps pad out the door as she turned the water off, reaching for a towel.

A second later, before the door clicked, Prim's voice turned playful once again as she sang, "Have fun with Peeta."

Katniss grumbled incoherently under her breath, but said no more as she stepped out of the shower and patted herself dry, slipping into her usual night attire – shorts and a sweatshirt. She brushed her hair through, twisting it into her signature braid before tip-toing out of the bedroom, careful not to wake Prim, the small girl already deep in slumber.

She walked towards the door, slipping into her younger sister's flip-flops. She noted, confusedly, that Haymitch's light was still on in his study. He normally was knocked out quite early, more often than not through the aid of alcohol.

Prim's words came to her mind; Peeta was helping Prim with Haymitch, with his alcohol problem. The thought tugged a smile onto her face, though she wiped it off only a second later as she pulled open the front door and found the orange, dirty ball of fur on curled up at the corner of the porch. Buttercup.

Katniss sighed, knowing she was likely to give in to Prim's pleas for a pet soon enough; her baby sister had seen enough, had gone endured far too much in her short life. If she could give her simple joy by fulfilling her request, Katniss knew she would without hesitation. Though she had a strong dislike for cats. There was something about their eyes, she thought.

She clambered down the steps, the soft grass poking at the sides of her feet, causing a weird tickling sensation. She scurried to the side of the house, the door to Peeta's room already wide open.

She stepped in, leaving an awkward knock on the door. As they always did, the eclectic colors that defined Peeta's room popped out at her, taking her by surprise. There seemed to be new paintings, new colors, every time she stepped in. His bed, now turned back into a sofa sat in the middle, nearly hidden under a pile of blankets.

She called his name out, her eyes lingering on the canvasses – some filled with colors, others bleak, just black and white. A lot of them had faces, she noticed not for the first time. But some were just simple landscapes, mostly of the ocean. She could almost feel the tranquility, the serenity just looking at them.

She inched towards the section towards the back of the room, canvasses of all sizes covered in black cloths. She wondered, like with her portrait, if he just simply covered all of his paintings before they were complete. She neared them, wondering if she could sneak a peek before he came back from wherever he was.

As she contemplated lifting just the corner of one of the black sheaths, she heard footsteps behind her and jumped back, turning around swiftly.

Peeta's eyes widened infinitesimally in alarm as he found her, but covered it up with a smile a beat later, his fingers holding on tightly to a big block covered by a dark sheet.

"Sorry," he said, setting the black block on a wooden stand – an easel, she remembered him calling it. He left the black sheath on the canvas as he brought a stool in front of it, the canvas facing away from the couch.

He looked to Katniss, and she twisted her fingers awkwardly, not knowing where she was supposed to sit, or what she was supposed to do.

Doing the portrait made her slightly uncomfortable, having Peeta's eyes trained on her so intently for such long periods of time; but she owed him, and with that in mind, she toughed it out and sat through it sans complains.

To his end, he did often stop after he noticed her fidgeting and antsy behavior increase – usually, they took a half hour break for every half hour they worked.

But they hadn't worked here yet, in his room, completely alone, and this new setting made her nerves jumble a tiny bit more.

Peeta moved to the sofa, pushing the blankets off to a corner, and turned to her, "you can sit here. It should be more comfortable than the stool we use at the diner."

He smiled, walking to the other end of the small, chaotic room, to a small fridge. "Anything to drink?"

She clambered to the couch and situated herself, folding one leg under her and shook her head.

He smiled, and brought her a small bottle of apple juice anyway, leaving it on the large arm of the sofa.

"Music?" He asked a moment later, and she nodded, appreciative that at least they wouldn't have to sit in complete silence while he painted.

Peeta wasn't one to talk while he worked, she'd learned in the past few days. When he painted, his face became different, more concentrated, more serious than she'd ever seen before. His blue eyes danced with excitement, inspiration and a small smile always played on his lips. He often ran his hands through his hair, too, leaving it mussed and out of place by the time he finished.

He flipped through his CDs, slipping one into the CD player that sat on top of his fridge. Immediately, to her surprise, Bruce Springsteen's voice filled the room.

She quirked her eyebrow at him as he took his place on the stool, lifting the veil off of the cotton canvas, letting the black sheath fall to the floor.

"Interesting choice in music," she said, smiling. "I was expecting Dean Martin or Sinatra – they seem to be all you listen to."

He chuckled, opening the canisters of paint one by one and shrugged. "Springsteen reminds me of my dad."

She nodded, realizing that the song playing did in fact remind her of her life before … everything. But it wasn't her father who came to mind, it was her mother. She'd always been a fan of Springsteen, U2, and Bon Jovi; often blasted the music as she cooked, as she cleaned. Though, she cut herself off from anything that used to bring her happiness or joy once their dad died. It had been a while since she'd heard any of these tunes.

She shook her head, ridding herself of the thoughts. She didn't want to think of her mother, of the ghost of the person she used to be, the hollow person she'd now become.

She closed her eyes as Peeta set to work, and seeped further into the comfortable couch allowing the laziness that was creeping up on her to take over.

* * *

Katniss felt a cool hand on her, shaking her gently and she peeled her lazy eyes open, confused.

She blinked once, twice, taking in her surroundings, the colors and the paintings, Springsteen's voice singing softly in the background. She turned, facing a pair of blue eyes, bright even in the dim lighting.

Peeta smiled at her, handing her a mug of something warm, steaming. "You fell asleep."

Her eyes widened; she remembered just closing her eyes for a second to relax, she hadn't even realized she'd fallen asleep. She couldn't remember being tired much.

"I'm sorry! Did I ruin the portrait?"

Peeta shook his head, strands from his blonde hair falling into his eyes. He pushed them away with his fingers, and took a sip from the mug he held in his own hands.

"No, actually, it works better when you're not moving and fidgeting every five seconds." He teased.

She rolled her eyes, shifting to a sitting position. "What time is it?"

His eyes flicked to the clock hanging to the left of him; it was a confusing clock, the numbers reading backwards and counter-clockwise. She smiled, it was very him.

"Two-thirty."

She took a sip from the mug she held, and hot chocolate oozed down her throat, sweet, warm and delicious.

She nodded her head towards the clock, "Where did you manage to find that?"

"Garage sale." He said, smiling at the clock. "It's kinda where I get most of my stuff."

"At garage sales?" Katniss asked.

He smiled, "Yeah, people can hoard some weird stuff over time. But you can find some cool stuff at garage sales."

His eyes widened for a moment, his smile widening a tiny bit. "Which reminds me, are you working tomorrow?"

Katniss shook her head, Wednesdays were her days off.

"Perfect. Meet me here at five tomorrow, I want to show you something."

Katniss looked at him dubiously, her attention piqued "Show me what?"

He chuckled lowly, chiding her mockingly, "Impatient as always, Katniss. You'll see tomorrow."

"It's not fair if you tell me you have something to show me, and then not tell me what it is." She argued, wincing at the whine in her voice. She sounded about the same age as Prim.

"But see," He said, his blue eyes glowing as he turned his body towards her, "I'm pretty sure that's how surprises work."

Katniss let out a huff, her chest rising with the action. She didn't do well with surprises, or with not knowing, really.

"You'll survive" He laughed a second later, as if hearing her thoughts.

She shook her head, glaring at him.

"Well, I guess I should go. You probably need to sleep…" she said, making to move.

He shook his head fervently as she expressed the words and she stopped.

"I'm not really tired yet, it's cool. You can at least finish your hot chocolate." He said, nodding at the mug clutched in her fingers.

She nodded, and sat back, tucking both her legs under her. Her eyes flickered over the paintings again, and too the far corner, she noticed the one of Delly. She was beautiful; blue eyes set deep in her face, her blonde hair a halo over her head. The picture next to the one of Delly's was of another girl, an unfamiliar face. She had dark hair, and bangs sitting angrily on her forehead. She wore a smile, though, one that brightened her face completely, and under her thick, dark lashes sat two beautifully blue eyes. A picture of Johanna followed, her face disturbingly happy. The smile on her face made her look years younger, though, she might have been younger when he'd painted it.

Katniss turned towards Peeta, his eyes already trained on her. "Are they all your ex-girlfriends?"

He smiled fondly at the pictures, "No. Just Jo and Delly. The other girl was just a friend; she goes to school somewhere north, now."

Katniss nodded; Peeta had always suspected Peeta to be popular at school, there was something in his look, his smile. He was friendly, amiably talking to everyone he ever came across. She couldn't imagine him ever being unpopular with the girls at his school.

She told him that, and he laughed loudly, shaking his head. "No, I just – I guess, I was in a bad place for most of high school. Everything kinda just fell apart when my dad died, you know?"

She nodded, she knew. Though she couldn't imagine Peeta losing it; his unyielding smiles made her feel like nothing bad could ever happen in this world. She couldn't imagine him being any other way.

But she said nothing, allowing him to speak. He'd never mentioned his dad before, or why he lived with Haymitch. She knew from experience how difficult it was to say some things out loud.

He rubbed his neck nervously, taking a sip of his hot chocolate. "And I guess, Delly was—Delly was my best friend for a long time before that, and she's, you know how she is – always happy and bright. I just, I guess I clung to her because she was the only happiness I could see, the only palpable happiness, at least. But it wasn't fair to her. I didn't, I didn't love her.

"And then, Johanna was just as screwed up as I was. And we kind of just – we just bonded in our own messed up way but, I mean, that could only last for so long. She's like family now, though. Her and Annie. Them and Haymitch – they're all I have."

She nodded slowly, Annie's words coming back to her from a long time ago. They were all they had – all three of them.

But she silently wondered, why he didn't have his actual family to depend on? His dad had passed away, but what happened to the rest of them? His mother? Siblings? He never mentioned anyone.

When he didn't continue, Katniss cleared her throat. "That's kind of how it is with Gale – my friend that came here – some days it feels like him and Prim are the only two people in this world that I have to depend on."

He smiled at her sadly, softly. Too affectionately.

"Well, you can make that three people now." He said after a moment, his voice soft.

She smiled back, a weird warm feeling creeping up her neck, making her unbearably uncomfortable.

Not knowing what else to do, she brought her mug to her lips again.

Smiling understandingly at her discomfort, Peeta looked to the small TV that sat a few feet in front of them on an old, small wooden table, a stack of DVDs piling high next to it.

"Do you wanna watch a movie?" He asked suddenly, "If you're not too tired, I mean."

Katniss nodded, grateful for the change in topics. "Sure, what do you have?"

He stood from the couch, swiftly taking the few steps towards the table. "The _Star Wars trilogy_, _It's a Wonderful Life_, _Home Alone_ 1 and 2, and _Back to the Future._"

She laughed; the list of the DVDs he owned was typical, just as eclectic as him. "So you only own either Christmas movies or sci-fi movies?"

He shrugged, smiling, "I'm a man of many tastes."

"Home Alone." She decided, "The second one."

He nodded, agreeing, and placed the movie into the videogame console that rested in a shelf under the wooden table.

He climbed back onto the plush sofa, and handed her a blanket, reaching for one of his own. She took it from his hands and spread it across her legs, pulling it up to her chin.

As she leaned back into the sofa, her head lying close to Peeta's shoulder but not quite touching, she inhaled the scent of him. The warmth, the sweetness, it somehow brought her comfort.

She thought of his words, of the shy, sweet smile as he told her she had three, not two people in this world, and she smiled. A real, genuine smile.

* * *

Katniss awoke with a start, taking in her surroundings in for a second time. Except this time, there was no one to awake her, no gentle shaking rousing her from her slumber. Instead, it was the bright, blinding sun peering in through the window in Peeta's room.

She turned to the clock, and cursed silently as she read the time. It was almost six in the morning; she'd fallen asleep sometime during the movie.

She felt Peeta shift next to her, her eyes widening as she realized his arm was splayed across her waist, her head resting on his arm.

Slowly, gently, she lifted his arm off of her body and slid out from the covers.

Placing a pillow under his head, she pulled the covers over Peeta and stared at him.

He looked young, much younger when he was asleep. His blonde hair almost looked white from the sun, the mussed completely on one side. He snored lightly, barely audibly, as his chest rose and fell.

As she remembered his words from the night before, she felt the odd sensation of heat rise in her neck again, and pushed the thought away.

She needed to get out of her, needed to be in the safe comfort of her own bed, next to Prim, now.

Shutting the door softly behind her, she padded back to the front of the house, and walked in.

The house was quiet, still, and she was grateful that she'd made it back into the house before anyone else had woken up.

Without a second glance to anything else, she scurried across the kitchen, the living room, heading for her and Prim's room, wanting nothing more than to hide under the safety of her blankets, in her _own_ bed.

She heard a cough as she walked past the kitchen, and she froze in her path. She turned slowly, too slowly, she knew.

And she was met with Haymitch's questioning look, a mischievous smirk on his face, a cup of something steaming in his hands, clutched tightly. His knuckles were a scary, pasty white where his skin stretched over his bones.

She looked at him, apprehension in her eyes as she meekly nodded to at him in acknowledgement.

He simply nodded back, and Katniss took it as her cue to run.

She stumbled into her room and peeled the sweatshirt off of her body, slipping out of the flip-flops, and fell into bed.

As she stretched her sore limbs, she let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding in. She could feel a flush in her cheeks, an odd, tingly sensation everywhere else as she thought about Peeta's arm on her, her face so close to his.

She pushed her face deep into her pillow, feeling the warmth from Prim's sleeping form radiating on to her, and forced herself to shut her eyes, and her mind.

She needed to stop thinking of this, of him. She needed to rid herself of these awful, horrible tingling feelings.

* * *

Katniss shifted on the large, itchy towel as she heard Prim call out to her, her voice a happy giggle.

She lifted herself from her laying position and turned towards the two girls who stood not too far from her, both clad in bright pink bathing suits, their hair wet from the ocean.

Prim ran towards Katniss, Rue in tow, her beautifully golden dog chasing the both of them. With a loud thump, Prim fell onto the towel, and Rue's small form followed.

The dog stood a few feet away from them, his tongue hanging out almost comically, panting loudly.

"Are you two hungry?" Katniss asked them as they dried themselves off with smaller towels, their skin different shades of pink from the relentless sun.

They both nodded, their tired bodies falling onto the blanket as they both stretched themselves out onto the itchy cloth she sat on.

Shielding her face from the sun, Katniss stood and dusted herself off, small grains of sand still clinging to her shorts and legs.

She walked across the smooth, warm sand and trudged up the short stairs leading to the deck, the heat of the summer forcing laziness into her step.

She passed Haymitch's study, the light from his room peering onto the wooden tiles, and avoided it steadfastly, ignoring the flush rising to her cheeks.

She collected the sandwiches she made earlier in the day for the two girls, and tucked two bottles of water under her arms, heading back towards the beach.

She squinted her eyes as she spotted another body on the girls' towel, her body freezing altogether as she realized who it was.

Peeta.

She wondered if he remembered her falling asleep next to him; he was still deep in slumber when she'd left, and she only hoped that he had no recollection of her sleeping form cuddled far too closely to his.

She neared the three of them, and they all smiled at her, Peeta's smile brighter than the rest.

Purposefully, she sat opposite Peeta, hiding behind both Prim and Rue as she handed them their water and food, as the two girls carried their conversation with the blonde boy – something about seashells and frames, though Katniss couldn't much pay attention to what they were saying.

Moments later, she risked a glance at Peeta, and with a swoop of relief, realized that he wasn't looking at her any differently; his cheeks weren't tinted pink the way she was sure hers was.

Maybe he didn't remember, she thought hopefully.

She smiled as he turned his attention towards her, excitement swimming in his eyes. "So, are you ready for your surprise?"

Her eyes widened; as she drowned in the embarrassment from the night before, the surprise awaiting her had managed to completely slip her mind.

She nodded her head fervently and he laughed, almost oblivious to the questioning stares from the two younger girls.

He stood, helping her up as he did. "Get your shoes and meet me out front."

Ignoring her baby sister's questioning glare, Katniss nodded and told him to give her a minute, and walked into the house.

She slipped into her converses, double-knotting the laces and re-twisted her mussed braid before heading towards the front of the house.

Katniss' eyes shone with excitement as she neared Peeta, her eyes fixated on the piece of wood in the blonde boy's hands.

A beautiful, bronze colored bow.

She touched it with delicate fingers as she looked to him, question in her eyes.

"I found this at a garage sale the other day, so I picked it up. Thought you could maybe teach me to shoot?" He explained, "The arrows are in the car."

A grin spread across her face as he handed the bow to her, and she ran her fingers along the length of it.

"This is a beautiful bow, Peeta."

He smiled, walking around to the driver's side of the car, climbing in. "Well then, c'mon. Let's go."

She smiled, her fingers clutching to the wooden bow. It had been so long since she'd last lost herself in the woods, inhaled the scent of the wild, the green, the fresh air.

Her smile fell as she realized where she was. "Where are we going to hunt here, Peeta?"

He turned towards her as his fingers turned the ignition, coaxing the car to start up. "I know a place. It's about thirty minutes from here. It's beautiful."

She nodded, relaxing in her seat, as he rolled the windows down.

His fingers poked at one of the buttons in front of them, and Bruce's voice filled the air once again.

Unwelcomed, the tingly sensation rose back into her fingers, her toes as she recalled the night before.

But this time she couldn't hide, couldn't slip away. This time, she didn't know how to stop them.

* * *

_a/n: alright, there's a bit of fluff in here for you all. hope you liked it! reviews, as always, are so very appreciated. I swear my heart swells each time I get a new review._

_on another note, as i'm sure you can tell from the typos, i don't have a beta reader. but if any of you would be interested in proof-reading these chaps before i post them, it would be so greatly appreciated so please let me know if anyone's interested. thanks!_


	7. Chapter 7

_a/n: i know, i know. it's been too long. i'm sorry :( but alas, here it is! hope you enjoy!_

_as always, thank you thank you thank you for the reviews/alerts/favs. you all are so, so amazing and i don't think i say it enough!_

* * *

Katniss clutched the wooden bow in her fingers tightly as she suppressed an eye-roll, the snap of a twig sounding loudly in her ears.

She turned to Peeta, trying for both of their sakes to disguise her frustration with a patient, cool look as she half-heartedly cautioned him to watch his step; she knew he couldn't help it though, his steps were just too heavy, too careless.

She walked a few strides ahead of him, her own steps much softer than his. It was from practice, she supposed. Practice from years of hunting with her father, and then with Gale. The two men she'd always hunted with were just as experienced as her, if not more, and somehow had mastered the art of treading across the fallen twigs and branches and leaves without so much as making a noise.

This was just Peeta's first time, she reminded herself. He probably didn't even know how vital and necessary stealth and quietness was to hunting.

Her breath hitched as her eyes caught sight of a small, round ball of fur; a beautiful rabbit, it's coat different shades of gray. She took a step closer to it, signaling with her fingers to Peeta to remain quiet, to not take a step.

She pulled her bow up, grasping it tightly with her left hand. She determinedly pointed her shoulder towards the small animal as she pointed the wooden contraption towards the ground, placing the shaft of the yellow arrow on the arrow rest. In quick, swift moves she attached the back of the arrow to the bow string with the nock, placing three fingers on the arrow before drawing it, aiming the sharp edge towards the rabbit.

She pulled it backwards just a tiny bit more, and – _crunch. _

She released the arrow, and it flung a mere three feet before landing into the dark soil in front of her. She sighed as the rabbit looked towards the two of them, eyes wide and alarmed before he scurried deep into the depths of the woods.

She turned to Peeta, forcing a smile on her face that she was sure looked somewhere between a grimace and frown and he rubbed his neck, a nervous habit.

It was his first time in the woods, hunting, she reminded herself for the tenth time, and drew a long breath.

Despite her growing aggravation, she found it difficult to even pretend to be angry with him.

He had made such an effort – finding her the bow and arrow, driving her all the way into the only forest he knew – she simply _couldn't _be angry

But she also couldn't accept his efforts or bow without giving something back to him. She never even allowed small gestures of kindness to be sent her way normally, in fear that she'd somehow have to reciprocate them – and here, with Peeta, he'd done more than just mere gestures of kindness. She already owed him far more than she cared to. And with that, she remembered that she wasn't here to hunt – she had no _need_ here, where there was never a lack of food. She was here to teach Peeta.

Peeta embarrassedly muttered an apology, kicking the small twig he'd snapped under his foot, a dark shade of red creeping up his neck.

Katniss shook her head, almost smiling at him as she stuck the bow out towards him, waiting for him to take it from her before walking the short, few steps to where the arrow landed.

"Well, normally," she started a she walked back towards him, noting that the blue in his eyes was almost a darker, turquoise shade, surely a reflection from the green of the trees and the grass. The yellow freckles on his skin danced across his skin wildly, making him seem a just a little bit younger. "Normally, the arrow would go straight ahead and plunge right into the animal but …"

"But," he interjected, his eyes annoyed, "I'm really loud and not only did I scare the rabbit away, but I startled you and made you mess up."

He huffed loudly, sticking the wooden bow back in her direction, "Maybe I should just let you hunt out here while I wait in the car – at least that way you'll actually be able to do what you came all the way here to do."

Katniss bit her lip. The idea _did _seem perfect; she'd missed the woods, the stillness and quietness that was so familiar to her, the thrill of watching an arrow fly through the air before shooting straight into her prey. And with Peeta's incessantly loud, thumping steps, she was sure to get not one kill on what she was sure was her only day in the woods until she was back home.

But she couldn't let him do that. And in a weird way that she couldn't quite understand, she didn't want to, either.

Peeta had brought her to these woods, and he deserved to share them with her. Kills or no kills

She shook her head at him, smiling as she shielded the sun from her eyes. "Don't be silly, Peeta. We're here to teach you to hunt."

Picking up her arrows, she neared him, standing behind him, his back against her chest and pulled his hands up, securing the bow tightly in his fingers. He was taller than she was and bulkier, and she had to extend her arms far to hold his fingers over the wooden bow.

She felt his muscles, taut and defined under his cotton shirt, tense and she lowered her voice, attempting a soothing voice she only really used around Prim.

"Don't be nervous, don't be tense." She said, her lips close to his cheek, her voice hushed. "Just relax. When you move, try to pivot your body. Try not to step, and try not to make any noise."

With swift moves, she placed the shaft of the arrow on the arrow rest as she had done before. She reached for his right hand, guiding his fingers, attaching the back of the arrow to the bow string, silently instructing him. She placed three of his fingers on the arrow before scanning the grounds, her eyes scouring through the green of the forest for prey.

She squinted her eyes as she saw movement in a tree eight feet from where they stood. An innocent looking grey squirrel crawled from the corner of the tree, its eyes focused on the trunk of the tree that loomed above its small body.

"Now." She whispered into Peeta's ear, and he nodded, drawing the string back as she had shown him before.

The arrow flung into the air, whizzing past the trees they stood beside, flying a mere inch above the startled animals head.

Katniss' eyes widened, impressed. "That was really good! Especially good for your first time."

Peeta turned towards her, his blonde hair tousled from the slight wind in the air, the hazy light from the sun dipping low into the horizon, pale against his skin.

"Thank you," he said graciously, "but I'm sure that without me here to hover over you, you'd be going home right now with about ten dead animals instead of none."

She smiled at him. He was right, she _would_ be going home with a lot more kills – for both her, and Gale. But that wasn't the point, not today at least.

Today, she had food at home, waiting for her. Today, she didn't hunt out of necessity, because her and Prim were close to starving. Today, for the first time in a long time, she did what she loved simply because she wanted to, not because she had to.

And she had the smiling boy in front of her to thank for that.

* * *

Katniss watched as Annie checked her phone for the seventh time in the past hour, sighing as she tucked the chunky device back into the pocket of her worn out jeans.

It was one of _those_ days for Annie; the ones where the only thing she could think of, the only thing she wanted to talk about, was Finnick.

It's weird, Katniss thinks. When she first met Annie, first saw how deeply she loved Finnick, it baffled Katniss. She couldn't comprehend allowing your happiness, your well-being, your world to depend on one person – one person who could easily up and leave with nothing to hold them back, nothing that truly tethers them to you in a way that a sister, a brother, a father or mother would, turning your world upside down.

In fact, she thinks bitterly, even a mother could up and leave you.

She couldn't understand depending on anyone, _anyone_, but herself.

But the way Annie's face lit up when she received a call or a text message from Finnick, the far-away, dreamy look in her eyes as she talked about the beautiful bronze man, the complete faith she put in him to not break her, to not hurt her – it wasn't foreign or foolish or absurd to Katniss anymore. It was almost endearing. It was brave.

Though she still could not say that she fully understood it, or could do so herself.

She just knew that when she saw Annie, saw the green in her eyes brighten at just the mention of the man she loved, Katniss felt a weird sensation of hope that was completely, wholly foreign to her. Hope that maybe, maybe someday she could be as brave as Annie.

She smiled at the older girl as she wiped her last table, lifting the chairs that lined the table onto its wooden surface. She looked back towards the kitchen, catching Peeta's eye as he wiped down the counters, a rag slung across his shoulder, his apron hanging loosely from his bright blue shirt. He smiled at her, his blue eyes matching his shirt, his mouth moving along to the jazzy rhythm of the music that blared from the small radio.

She smiled back at him as she walked towards the counter he'd just cleaned, and pressed her palms against the old wood, lifting herself up onto it. Annie finished vacuuming only moments later, pulling out her phone again as she followed Katniss, a deep frown on her face as she pulled herself up onto the counter, her legs dangling in the air beneath them.

Annie pushed her phone to the side and turned towards Katniss, a smile plastered on her face.

"What are you two up to tonight?" She asked, though Katniss could tell she had no real interest in knowing.

Annie was a girl's girl – the kind who liked to talk about her boy problems while eating ice-cream straight from the tub, a chick-flick playing on TV.

She was the kind of girl Katniss didn't know how to be.

But she knew Annie was itching to talk about Finnick, and Katniss decided to indulge her.

"Not much," she said, quickly glancing at Peeta as he walked towards them, "holding in his hand a plate with a large brownie and a fork. "What about you?"

Annie smiled at Peeta gratefully as he handed her the plate, her fingers immediately clasping around the metal fork.

Katniss smiled at Peeta, too; he knew how to read people better than anyone she knew. He always knew what people needed, sometimes before even they did.

Annie forked a large chunk of the chocolate brownie into her mouth before offering it to Katniss, who took a bite of her own, the chocolate taste melting into her mouth.

Weeks later, and she still wasn't used to having whatever food she wanted available to her at any given time. After the last few years, she wasn't sure she'd ever be used to it.

"Nothing…" Annie said, the word muffled by her chewing. "I just …" she sighed, "Finnick hasn't called or texted me in two days. I'm just worried about him – he normally calls every night."

Katniss nodded, slowly chewing another bite of the brownie, not quite knowing how to comfort Annie. As always, she wasn't very good with words.

Peeta sidled to the other end of the counter, lifting himself to the counter with half as much effort as it took Annie and Katniss, passing both of the girls large, plastic glasses used for soda, instead filled halfway with milk.

He touched his hand to Annie's shoulder, rubbing his thumb over her skin as Katniss silently took a large gulp of her milk.

"He's probably just busy – being on the team and stuff's gotta be rough." Peeta soothed and Annie nodded, her back leaning into Peeta.

They both looked at ease, completely comfortable with each other – Katniss felt a twinge of something inside her, something she couldn't pinpoint. Longing, maybe?

"I know," Annie breathed, her voice still sad. "I just, I miss him … I haven't seen him in over two weeks."

Peeta nodded, though his eyes seemed conflicted – not completely himself. The blue was just a tiny bit cloudier, but he pushed it aside within a second, the easy smile she was so used to back on his face. "I know – when is he supposed to come back, next?"

Annie's shoulders slumped, and she shoved a larger piece of brownie in her mouth, "I don't even know. He hasn't told me. And I would ask, _if_ he'd answer his phone!"

She checked her phone again, waving it in both Peeta's and Katniss' face for good measure, showing that there was still no text message or call.

Only, a moment later, Annie's eyes widened, the green in them brightening as she did so.

"Oh, my God. What's the date?"

"July 18th" Katniss said, checking her own phone to make sure.

Annie's face lit up completely, a smile spreading across her lips, threatening to swallow her face whole. The fork fell from her fingers, clanking loudly on the glass plate as she handed it to Katniss, her hands frantically reaching for her phone.

Annie scrolled down her phone, her face pinched, eyes squinted as she read something quickly.

Once she put the small device down, the smile returned on her face, somehow even larger than before.

"I've just had the most perfect idea!" she said, her velvet voice excited, jumping off from the counter, leaving just Peeta and Katniss on the wooden surface. "I'm going to go surprise Finny! He doesn't have any competitions this week so he'll be on campus, just training!"

Katniss watched silently as Peeta's mouth opened, and then closed, twice, as he tried to make sense of something – what, Katniss wasn't sure of – before he just closed his mouth, his lips a thin line.

Annie turned to Katniss, her mind completely enveloped in her excitement, not even noticing the clear confliction displayed on Peeta's face.

"Katniss, Sae will probably want to take on my shifts, but the days that she can't, can you? I should only be gone for a few days!"

Katniss nodded, looking between Annie and Peeta, confused by the look he was giving her.

Katniss thought back to the look Peeta gave Finnick when he'd surprised Annie at the diner before – the odd look of anger in his eyes had only flashed for a moment, and Katniss could have easily imagined it. But she didn't, she knew as much. Despite the fact that the look in his eyes had only lasted a moment, the frown on his face only lasting seconds, Katniss was sure it was there. And though she'd seen a similar look on Johanna's face almost every time Finnick was even mentioned, Peeta's look disconcerted her, only for the reason that he never even frowned, never disliked people.

Annie leaned towards Peeta, her green eyes wide, the small specks of gold shining brightly under the dull lighting of the diner. She smiled, widely, clutching at his calloused hand. "Can I please, please, pretty please borrow your car?"

Peeta heaved a sigh, the confliction, the cloudiness evident in his eyes once again. His frown deepened, his eyebrows knitting together, a crease in his skin forming in between them.

Annie took a step closer to him, noting his hesitation, and her smile almost faltered, _almost_, but she mustered enough enthusiasm, stretching her lips far across her mouth.

"Please?" She repeated, squeezing his hand.

Peeta's lips twitched, his eyes visibly relaxing as he squeezed her fingers back.

"Fine." He relented, though Katniss could tell his voice was still strained, uncomfortable. Strange.

Annie's smile bubbled over into a high-pitched squeal, followed by a giggle as Peeta reached into the pocket of his jeans, handing them to her.

She leaned forward, placing her lips to his cheek before ruffling his hair with her long, slender finger. She leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Thank you."

He wrapped his arms around her, burying the unsettling look on his face into her long, dark hair. "You're welcome."

He pulled her back, keeping her at arm's length, his expression suddenly solemn.

This time, Annie was not oblivious to the unusual shift in his mood – this time, she seemed like she almost expected it.

"I… I want you – I need you to be careful, okay, Annie?"

He drew the words carefully, slowly, his voice gruff and low.

Annie nodded, her green eyes earnest as she patted his cheek fondly, as one would do to a little sibling. "Don't worry, it's not like that anymore. Everything will be okay."

He nodded, and though Katniss was beyond confused, completely out of the loop in the conversation, Katniss could tell Peeta didn't believe her.

From the look in Annie's eyes, she could tell as well.

Annie smiled once more at Peeta before releasing him, wrapping her arms around Katniss next.

Though hugs from Annie were not anything new – at least not anymore - she was still mostly uncomfortably when it came to affection of any kind, and Katniss awkwardly patted the older girls back.

"Thank you!" She breathed to Katniss, the excitement clearly edging back into her voice.

Katniss was momentarily confused by the thanks, until she remembered that she'd agreed to take on her extra shifts. She groaned inwardly; that probably meant she would have to work with Johanna alone. And although the two had reached to some sort of … truce, or agreement, she still didn't enjoy being at work with just Johanna to rely on.

Maybe she would find a way to only work when Peeta was working. He seemed to get her through the customers – the overly enthusiastic, and the incredibly rude – with his easy smiles and happy chit-chat. Not that she minded Sae much, either. The old woman was sweet, and only spoke when she absolutely had to, a trait they both shared. They both often appreciated the silence when they worked together, getting lost in the chaotic hustle and bustle that was the diner.

Katniss snapped out of her thoughts as chimes echoed in her ear, her eyes tracing the source of the noise.

Annie stood by the door, waving at them, pure joy bubbling in her eyes, her smile. She blew a kiss at them, "Love you guys!"

Peeta forced a smile, and Katniss waved back before she jumped off the counter, finding the Styrofoam box that held her dinner behind the wooden counter on a metal surface. She picked it up, and wondered if Peeta and her would go to the beach, or back to his garage as they had been for the past few days, to continue working on the portrait. Or, if he wanted any company at all.

Judging from the look on his face only a few minutes ago, Katniss assumed it would be the latter.

Katniss shifted her body towards him, wanting to say bye quickly in order to leave him alone, as she was sure some solitude was what he truly wanted. She'd never seen Peeta upset, and though she wasn't sure she knew the words of comfort to pull him out of the bad mood, she did know that when she was upset, she wanted nothing more than to be left alone.

But he surprised her. A smile, albeit strained and strange, spread across his lips as he grabbed the remaining Styrofoam box.

"Wanna go to the beach?" He asked, his voice tired but still light, and Katniss had to wonder how he did it, how he veiled his sour mood so well. It was something Katniss struggled with on a daily basis. He continued, "I don't really feel like painting right now…"

He let the words hang in the air, not elaborating, but Katniss could understand.

Peeta wasn't her; he didn't like to be alone. He liked to talk, he liked company.

She nodded, pulling out her phone to text Prim, letting her know she'd be home late.

As she hit the 'sent' button, her mother's name appeared in block letters on the small screen.

Katniss sighed inwardly. Her mother had called fifteen, maybe twenty times since they'd arrived, and Katniss had only spoken to her once so far. The first day they got here.

She tried, she truly did try to not be angry, or at least to suppress her anger long enough to carry a short, maybe two minute long, conversation with her mother. But she couldn't. And so, she didn't.

Instead, she ignored the calls, each one of them that came around the same time – ten to eleven PM – and let Prim do the talking for her.

She ignored the questioning look that Peeta sent her way, the same look he'd been sending her way since they'd started their nightly escapes to the beach, and now to his garage, since the first time he noticed her ignoring the calls.

But he didn't ask about them, never ventured further than his questioning looks – not even when they played 'truth' - and for that, she was grateful.

Katniss slipped her phone back into her pocket, "Let's go."

* * *

Katniss chewed on her lips as she swallowed the last of her burger, wondering if she should ask about Annie, or not.

She'd been curious since she'd seen Johanna's reaction to Finnick, slightly more confused when she saw Peeta's and only a little thrown off when she witnessed the two girls fight, his name a constant in their biting words … but now, she was completely baffled.

But conversation had been stilted so far, and Peeta seemed to be deep in thought, encased in his own mind, his own world.

Katniss nudged him lightly with her shoulder, her voice low, almost inaudible against the clash of the waves "Penny for your thoughts."

The phrase reminded her of Gale – it was his go-to when Katniss' moods went sour, when she lost herself in her own world, which was often, to be honest. She smiled at the thought of her oldest, closest friend. She missed him.

She turned towards Peeta, and abandoning their on-going game of 'truth', asked him the question she'd been holding in. She didn't want to attach their game to it, didn't want him to feel obligated to answer.

"Is everything okay? With Annie?"

He was quiet for a moment – a long moment, and Katniss silently wondered if she'd stepped over some sort of invisible boundary, if it simply wasn't her place to ask. She needed to retract. "You don't have to tell me, if you don't want …"

He shook his head, his blonde hair flopping from the action. He rubbed a tired hand across his face and set the white Styrofoam box next to his foot, leaning back on his palms.

He heaved a long sigh, "It's just … Johanna and I just worry for Annie, you know?"

He paused, taking a second to organize his thoughts, drawing a breath before he continued.

"Annie just has such a good, pure heart. And she's so trusting … and, and unsuspecting. And Finnick's just … I just, I don't trust Finnick." He paused again, but this time his eyes were hard, and when he continues, his voice matched his dark blue orbs. "I mean, he's given us all plenty of reasons not to."

Katniss' mind immediately raced back to the conversation – the argument – she'd witnessed between the two girls weeks ago. She couldn't remember much of it, but she did remember Johanna throwing around accusations, something about Finnick.

Katniss' heart dropped to the pit of her stomach, and she suddenly hoped, hoped with everything she had that Annie wouldn't come home from UNC broken-hearted. It was in Katniss' nature to protect people, to shelter them from pain, and this habit only strengthened when it came to people that she liked, people that she loved. And in the past month, she'd come to love Annie.

"Has Finnick ever …" She let the accusation hang, linger in the air. She wasn't sure what she wanted to tack on to the sentence. Had Finnick ever cheated on Annie? Had she so easily forgiven him?

"Once." Peeta said, nodding his head. "At least, only once that we know of."

"How…?"

"She was surprising him, just as she is now. But instead, he surprised her. She caught him with some girl from his floor – it was his freshman year."

"And … and she stayed with him?" Katniss could hear the bewilderment in her own voice, but couldn't find a way to disguise it.

She hadn't wanted to be right about this, about relationships and love and all that other crap. She had wanted to believe, to clutch with all her might at the hope that Annie and Finnick's love had provided her for that short bit of time. But she _was_ right, and that small inkling of hope had just dissipated before her eyes.

Her own resolve strengthened, she would never fall in love. She'd never put herself through that.

Peeta nodded his head a beat later, his lips turned down from the corners. "They broke up at first, and she was a mess for days. But then he apologized … and yeah, she forgave him."

Katniss could hear the disapproval, the disbelief in Peeta's voice.

The tone of her own voice echoed his, "But why?"

He shrugged, "She says she loves him. Says that's enough."

Katniss shook her head, silently disagreeing. Love _wasn't_ enough. Love wasn't enough to overlook a betrayal like that. Love wasn't enough to forgive like that. It simply wasn't.

Something clicked in Katniss' mind. "So that's why you were hesitant to let her take your car? And that's why Johanna hates him?"

Peeta nodded in affirmation, "We saw how badly she was hurt last time. It's kinda hard to put the image of a sobbing, broken Annie out of your mind."

Katniss simply nodded, not knowing what else to say. Not knowing if there _was_ anything she could say. She didn't know if Annie would come back broken or not, couldn't see that far into the future. She just knew that she truly, truly hoped that she wouldn't have to see a broken, sobbing Annie. She wasn't sure she could handle as much.

Peeta seemed to have enveloped himself into the tendrils of his own thoughts, and Katniss allowed him the silence.

Only a few moments later, Peeta turned towards her, a smile on his face more normal than the one he'd plastered on before. The blue in his eyes was dark, camouflaging with the night sky but the whites stood out.

He stood up, stretching his arms over his head, suddenly infinitely more relaxed and Katniss puckered an eyebrow at him.

He nodded towards the boardwalk, back towards the general direction of the town. "Wanna work on the portrait?"

She nodded and stood as he took the empty take-out box from her hands, throwing both of their Styrofoam boxes into the trash before leading her from behind the dunes, across the sand.

"So, was that your 'truth'? Because I think that means it's my turn …" he said, smiling as they climbed the short steps from the sand to the wooden boardwalk.

She smiled back, "Sure. Your turn."

* * *

Katniss stretched as Peeta lowered his hands from the canvas, a paint brush in his hand, and lifted herself from the couch. She casually trailed towards his easel, and he smirked at her before throwing the black sheath over the easel, securing the painting from her curious eyes.

"Not yet …" he reminded her in a playful, chiding tone.

She groaned, huffing her chest out a bit.

He chuckled in response, his blue eyes swimming with amusement as she crossed her arms.

"Just a little bit longer," He said again, his voice placating her, "and a little bit more patience."

"Whatever," she mumbled, stealing a look at the clock. It was late, but she wasn't yet tired, and she could tell from the look in his eyes that he wasn't either.

He chuckled again, lifting the easel off the ground and planting it to the far corner of the room, away from her. "Listen, how about I make it up with some hot chocolate?"

Katniss grunted incoherently, and his smile widened.

"With some bread, too" she mumbled a moment later, feeling a low rumbling in her stomach.

"Of course," he nodded, walking towards the small cabinet that held his utensils, his plates and mugs. He pulled two black, glass mugs from the wooden cabinet before reaching for the small pull-out drawer. A small frown appeared on his face.

"I think I ran out of hot chocolate mix…" He said, pausing for a moment. "You sit tight here for a moment, I'll go get some from upstairs."

Katniss shook her head, she didn't want to have him go out of his way to find the hot chocolate. She could do without. She'd just go to bed instead.

"You don't have to, it's okay…" she started, but he cut her off.

"I'm not taking no for an answer." He said, tossing her the remote to the small television set he owned. "Just hang here, and I'll be back in a minute."

He tossed a smile at her, rushing out of the room before she could tell him no.

Resigned, she slumped back into the couch, flipping the television on. She flipped through the channels aimlessly as she scanned the room for the thousandth time. Despite the fact that she'd been in this exact room more than a few times since she accidentally fell asleep here, she still felt her cheeks warm and her fingers tingle when she was here. It was probably from the embarrassment, she thought.

Her eyes swept the room; each time she did, she felt there were new colors in the room, new paintings. His room, so much like him, was never dull, never quiet. It was loud, it was vivacious. It was the opposite of hers – two bare walls, because Prim could only decorate her side of the room, and two beds, and not much of anything else.

She stood a moment later, wanting to admire the paintings up close. Not for the first time, she was drawn to the corner of the room where black sheaths were haphazardly thrown over a few paintings, maybe some easels. The black cloths formed a lumpy formation, small mountains of something.

She'd never asked him about them, and he'd never offered any sort of explanation, though she knew he'd noticed her eyes lingering in that general direction more than a few times.

She leaned towards them, her fingers skimming the cotton black sheets. As if on their own accord, her fingers began to pry at the sheaths, though she couldn't quite remember making the decision to do so.

She lifted the black sheaths from the canvasses, a weird, apprehensive feeling forming in the pit of her stomach. She should just let the cloth fall back into place, she shouldn't pry into Peeta's business, his paintings like this. She didn't know what she would do, or say if he caught her here, in this position.

But she couldn't help it. She was curious by nature, always had been. She always preferred to be in the know than to be left wondering.

Without giving it another thought, she pulled at the black sheath, and blinked.

There were a dozen or so paintings, some small, some big featuring the same thing, the same person.

It was a girl. A girl with a long, beautifully twisted braid that fell down across her front, just skimming her rib cage. She wore a smile – not a big, glorious smile, the kind that she'd become used to seeing on Prim, and Annie and Peeta. Not, it was a small smile. A smile that almost didn't exist, almost was close to just a small grimace. But it was a smile, Katniss could tell from the smallest of lift from the corner of her lips. Her eyes sparkled a shimmery gray, like small shards of glass, and there was a small wrinkle in between her eyebrows, where the two lines knit together. A few tendrils of hair escaped her braid, forming almost a halo around her face.

The paintings weren't all the same – though those details were featured in almost every painting, the differences among the paintings varies. Some had different settings, different lighting, others were painted using different colors; black and white, blue and green.

Katniss' eyes squinted as she saw a small square of paper, held to a wooden easel with a large, rotund white clip. She tugged at it, a quiver in her hands she hadn't realized was there.

With agonizingly slow movements, she brought the white paper to her face, and with hesitant fingers, twisted it in her hands.

It was a picture of her.

The braid, the smile, the eyes, the wrinkle – it was her.

It was an older picture, taken sometime before her father died; she could tell in the way her lips tugged upwards, even if it was just a tiny, small bit. The photo wasn't a new one, the edges of the old paper were bent and a small tear on the right corner appeared.

The picture of was of her. The paintings were of her.

Katniss blinked hard, trying to make sense of this, trying desperately hard to understand why a boy she'd met only a month ago would have pictures of her, would spend hours painting_ her_.

_How_ had he done all this?

She blinked again, finding some sense of comfort in the depth of the darkness in her eyelids, away from the images of herself.

What did this mean?

She pictures Peeta in her mind – his tousled, unruly blonde hair, his sparkling blue eyes. His smile, his sweet, kind smile that almost never wavered. Only now, she could also picture the deception.

And then the unwelcome image of the paintings came to her mind.

Had he been stalking her?

It made sense – she barely knew anything about him, he seldom talked about himself, his family. And he'd found a way to wiggle into her life, into her uncle's life.

With a shocking startle, she realized that she'd let her poor, unassuming sister near him. Near her stalker. Without knowing it, she'd put her sister in the most dangerous situation possible.

She clutched the picture of herself a little tighter, sneering at the paintings with disgust and began to turn away, wanting to get out of here, needing to escape.

She paused when she heard a sharp gasp.

She turned around, accusations evident in her eyes to find Peeta standing not five feet from her, two mugs and a plate of bread settled on the tray in his hands.

He hurriedly dropped the tray onto the table in front of the couch, the dark brown liquid jumping from the mugs and spilling onto the orange tray in his haste.

He turned towards her, his eyes wide, earnest. "I – I can explain…"

He stuttered, his cheeks glowing a bright red, the blue in his eyes bright. "I can, trust me."

She wanted to scoff at his use of the word 'trust.' Right, she could trust her stalker. The man who kept pictures of her and painted her in secrecy. The thought of it all made her sick.

She looked at him, her eyes distrusting, afraid almost. She lifted the picture of herself from her chest, thrusting it in his face as he neared her.

"Why do you have this?" She asked, her voice low, deadly.

He ran a hand over his face tiredly, his expression bleak.

"I can explain, I really can …" he repeated, his eyes shifting between the paintings and her. "Do you wanna take a seat?"

Her eyes drifted towards the couch, and the image of her and him, sleeping, his arm around her, edged its way back into her mind. Instead of the odd tingles she felt before, this time she simply shuddered.

She shook her head fervently, "No."

He nodded, and she knew he wouldn't press her. He knew he couldn't change her mind. He had to know it would go the same for _this_. She wouldn't understand, no matter how well or how he explained. He was a sick-minded bastard, and it made her feel ill.

He lifted his fingers, dropping them to his neck. He was nervous, she knew.

He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it a moment later, not a sound croaking from his lips. His lips drew into a small line.

"Explain." Katniss snapped, her patience running thin.

"He nodded wearily, rubbing the pads of his finger up and down over the skin of his neck, and clutching the back of the couch with his other hand, his skin stretching over his knuckles, turning the skin into a pasty white color."

"I just … I don't know how to start. I know – I understand what you might thinking and it's just … It just—"

"Are you stalking me?" She asked, interrupting him. She hadn't meant to ask so blatantly, but now that it was out there, she didn't care if she offended him. Why would she?

His eyebrows knit together, and his lips twitched, suppressing a smile.

"_No_. No, I'm not _stalking_ you – although I understand why you would think so … I just … are you sure you don't wanna sit?"

She shook her head, unrelenting.

He nodded again, "When – when I was younger, my mom, my mom's means of punishment were a little bit tougher than what most kids are used to."

He gulped, and she watched, her lips puckered together closely, as his apple's adam rose up and down.

"Sorry," he croaked a moment later, his voice softer, hushed. "I've never really told anyone about this. No one who didn't already know, at least."

She wanted to tell him he didn't have to tell her all of this, he just needed to leave her and her family the hell alone. But she couldn't find the words or her voice.

"She always slapped us around when we acted up or whatever, but it wasn't too bad, because my dad was always there to stop her, to protect us. But when he died, she had nothing left to stop her, there was no one left to protect us – my brothers and I. She just … she got a little carried away, I guess the grief from my dad dying must have had its own role in all…"

Katniss shuddered. Her mother had been an awful mother, she was aware of that. She'd been aware of that for a long time. But she'd never once raised her hand to either one of her daughters. Never once yelled too loudly at them. Katniss couldn't imagine feeling unsafe in your own home.

But that didn't explain why Peeta had pictures of her, why he had painted portrait after portrait of her face.

"But when it got too bad, when … when," he sighed, "when I couldn't take it anymore, I moved out."

"What about your brothers?" Katniss asked, her voice matching his. She hadn't meant to ask, was supposed to be silent. But the words tumbled out anyway.

Peeta shrugged, a helplessness in the gesture, "They moved out a year after my dad died. They were both old enough to. I haven't really heard from them."

Katniss' eyes widened; she was infuriated with his brothers. She couldn't imagine leaving Prim to a mother like that – she'd stay if she had to, but she wouldn't leave her baby sister's side. "They didn't take you?"

He shook his head, "Nah, they said I was too young. I don't blame them, I guess. They shouldn't have had to deal with that if they didn't have to."

Katniss' opened her voice, to argue that he _should_ blame them, but he spoke before she could.

"Haymitch eventually found me though, and in his drunken stupor, he took me in." He paused, his fingers rubbing his neck ferociously. "He – he knew my dad, they were friends for a long time. And he knew my mom, what she was … what she was capable of.

"But when I moved here," he continued, "I realized that maybe Haymitch needed me more than I did him. This place," he said, gesturing towards the room, the house. "It was all a mess. Everything was in boxes. It looked like he's just moved in, though he'd been living her for a while. And while I was unpacking…"

He paused, his voice somehow lower than before. He lifted a finger towards the photo she held, "I found that."

She stared at him, still uncomprehending. The ordinary thing would have been to toss the photo back, not give it a second glance. Why did he keep it? Why did he paint her picture over and over again?

She asked him, and his eyes cast downwards, his frown deepening. His eyebrows knit closely together, and a jagged crease formed between them. He aimlessly drew a circular pattern on sofa behind him, leaning into it.

He heaved a sigh, loudly. "I know this is going to sound weird. And I'll understand if you don't want to speak to me again, I will."

Her breath hitched in her throat. Was that what she wanted? She didn't know. She didn't know.

"But … I just, I dreamt of you. That first night, when I found it. And then I dreamt of you the next night, and the next. And-" He paused, lifting her eyes to her, seemingly gauging her reaction. She forced all emotion from her face, maintaining a vacant look on her face, in her eyes. "And before that, before I found that picture, I almost couldn't sleep, not for long at least. I would have these crazy, violent nightmares. But then, somehow, your face starting appearing, and even though the nightmares persisted, kept plaguing my nights, somehow … somehow your face made it better."

He kept his eyes on her as she took the information in. She could understand about the nightmares; she was all too familiar with the nightly terrors herself. But he _dreamt_ about her?

It was all too weird for her to comprehend.

"So, when I woke up, I would just – I guess, I would just paint, or draw what I saw. It somehow … it made me feel less afraid. Less alone."

It didn't make sense. It truly didn't. Katniss couldn't manage to make herself feel less alone, _how_ could she make him feel less alone – when she didn't even know him.

Fleetingly, she wondered if he realized just how insane he sounded.

"I …" Katniss started, her voice breaking. She didn't know how she felt, didn't know what she thought. She could relate to him, could connect with what he felt. But at the same time, she completely couldn't.

She took a breath, holding her photo to her side, "I think I need to go."

Peeta nodded, his eyes a cloudy blue, the hurt in them palpable. But she didn't know what else to do, couldn't think of anything else to say.

"I understand."

She nodded, stepping away from him and rushed towards the door. She closed it quickly behind her.

She could feel her heart racing, beating wildly in her chest as she raced around the corner of the house, the grass wet from dew under her feet.

It wasn't until she was in her bed, Prim's body pressed against hers that she released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding in.

What was she going to do?

* * *

_a/n: so, just a heads up - there are only three more chapters left in this story, and maybe an epilogue after that! so we're nearing the end, but that is exactly why so much was revealed in this chapter! the next few are also gonna be a bit packed with information as well! _

_also - notice that there are significantly fewer typos in this chapter? well, that's because i finally have a beta reader! welcome zenleigh, everyone! she is so very awesome! and thanks to all of you who offered to beta, as well!_

_as always, reviews are so very appreciated, as are all alerts and favorites! thank you all so much for the support!_


	8. Chapter 8

_a/n: as always, thank you all so much for the feedback - the reviews, alerts, favorites are all so very appreciated! can't even believe i have over 300 reviews! :s okay, enjoy!_

* * *

Pushing the beads of sweat from her brows, Katniss moved closer and closer towards the sight in front of her, towards the mass of flames that blazed.

Her legs moved on their own accord, moving faster than she thought possible, and her heart beat rapidly under the cotton material of her shirt. She could feel the beating everywhere, not just her heart; it throbbed in her fingertips, her legs, the pit of her stomach.

Her stomach lurched as she watched the flames erupt, the tendrils of the flames wrapping themselves around the small car, enveloping it whole, shaking the metal frame violently.

Her ears throbbed with the sound of a scream, a blood-curdling noise she didn't recognize.

As she swallowed, her throat raw and sore, she realized the source of the scream – it was her.

She choked back another sob, the heat of the flames melting her skin, blistering her fingers as the tips of her hands skimmed across the dancing flames.

She could see the dark hair, the olive skin that belonged to her father and tears began to blur her vision. His body slumped across the heated leather of the seat, unconscious. His head tilting to the side, she could see a soft orange glow on his face from the fire.

The orange reminded her of something, stilling her actions for just a moment, filling the pit of her stomach with a tangled sensation. But she couldn't recall what it was, nor did it matter.

She needed to get her father out. She needed to help him escape the cages of the flames. She needed to save him.

She grasped the metal of the door handle, swallowing the cry that threatened to escape her lips; her throat was too raw from exhaustion, too coated in the thick smoke of the fire.

It was locked.

Bracing herself, she pulled one arm to her face, hiding it in the crook of her elbow as her other hand made contact with the glass of the window.

And then she heard a noise that pierced her ears, leaving a hollow ringing noise in its place.

She felt her body thrust backwards, her head fall to the dark pavement beneath her with a loud thud.

Her limbs couldn't move. Wouldn't.

She picked her head up slightly, dropping it when the rising flames of the fire violently swept across the entire car.

He was gone. She had failed.

She closed her eyes, this time almost wanting, wishing for the tears to come.

But they didn't. She was numb.

She didn't know how long she laid there – five minutes, five hours. The heat was scorching, the sirens wailed too loudly in her ears. But she didn't move.

Until she felt a hand on her, cool and soft, lingering on her face, sweeping her jaw.

She opened her eyes, squinting as she saw a shadow standing over her.

She couldn't see who it was, or what they looked like.

But suddenly, she a saw a flash of a smile. A smile she knew well. A smile that was familiar to her, comforting. A smile that had frequented her dreams more times than she could count, lately.

Her heart swelled in her chest with something she didn't know.

She blinked, and the shadow was gone.

She lifted herself slowly, her limbs too sore, too tired.

And that's when she saw him, this time only a few feet away; the tuft of blonde hair, the blue eyes bright even in the darkness of the night. He smiled at her again, and gone was the side of the highway, the flames, the car.

She blinked, and he was gone, too.

And then she woke up. She rolled over onto her side, her back slick from sweat, and let out a breath that sounded more like a shudder. She turned to the clock, her eyes narrowing in the dark to read the dull numbers.

It was only 3:42 am. After uncomfortably tossing and turning on the mattress for over an hour, she'd managed to sleep for all but fifteen minutes, and now, she wasn't sure she'd sleep at all for the rest of the night.

Katniss wasn't a stranger to nightmares – they'd trailed her every night since her father died. But somehow, since she'd come to Cedar Point, she'd become estranged from her nightly terrors. She'd become accustomed to the luxury of not having to re-live her father's death over and over.

With shaky fingers, she pushed away the stray strands of hair matted to her forehead and rose from her bed.

Pulling on Gale's old sweatshirt, she wished for a short moment that she was back home, back to the comfort of her best friend.

She trudged into the bathroom, splashing water onto her face before making way to the living room, her footsteps lazy and tired.

Silly her, she'd allowed herself to become used to sleeping for more than just a few minutes.

Running a hand along the length of her braid, she slipped into the kitchen, surprised that the light was still on. She didn't remember leaving it on when she'd come in.

She passed the hallways, the bare white walls a small comfort to her now, and froze as her eyes fixated on a figure hovering over the counter in the middle of the kitchen.

Peeta's eyes steadily focused on the ball of dough on the counter as he dug his knuckles into the beige-colored lump, a small patch of flour dusting his left cheek. His lips twisted as he whistled lowly, a tune she'd heard a million times but couldn't quite remember.

His lips curled upwards as he whistled a little louder, and reached for a small bowl of tiny, black berries from the counter, oblivious to her presence.

She blinked, her heart thumping too rapidly, too uncomfortably in her chest. That smile, _his _smile, reminded her of something … something she couldn't recall, something that made her chest ache and swell.

She closed her eyes - her clammy, sweating palm falling to the bare wall of the hallway - and it came back to her. The fire, the car, her father: all disappearing. The smile, the blonde hair – it was him. It was Peeta.

He looked up, his steely blue eyes widening as he noticed her. His smile faltered, replaced by another smile only seconds later. It was a different smile this time. One that didn't reach his cautious, almost scared eyes.

She didn't know what to say, or how to say it. Their conversation from earlier, the paintings, his dreams were still too fresh in her mind. Her thoughts were still too tangled a web for her to understand.

His words echoed in her ear. '_I'll understand if you don't want to speak to me again.' _

As intricately tangled and confused as her thoughts were, she knew she didn't want to _not _speak to him. The feelings that he gave her - of being young, of being _her _age instead of her mother's, of the tingles in all the absurd places – she couldn't forget, couldn't let go of them.

He stared at her, his eyes piercing into hers, trying to determine her thoughts, her feelings. When he noticed that she wasn't running away or punching him in the gut as he had suspected she would, but was instead walking towards him, dropping herself into the steel stool opposite him, a small, crooked grin spread across his chapped lips.

"You're not sleeping …" he said, his fingers pulling at the dough, stretching it over the berries before folding it over the small black mounds, careful not to crush them.

She nodded, watching his mechanical movements as he repeated the action. "And you're baking?"

He grimaced, his eyes focused away from her face, point-blank on the dough in front of him. Her eyes dropped to the apron fastened at his waist; it was white, or at least it used to be. Colors splotched across it in wild patterns, in a way that reminded her of his room. But instead of the chaotic mess of colors from the paint, the colors on his apron were different hues of pinks and blues – stains from berries, most likely.

"I couldn't really sleep, thought I'd get a head start." He said, shrugging.

Her eyebrow quirked – when she came up from Peeta's place, all but falling into her bed from exhaustion, she assumed he did the same. "Do you always bake before you sleep?"

He turned from her, bending down to a cabinet. The back of his hair was mussed, blonde clusters of strands matting to his scalp. He turned back, his expression still the same – guarded, cautious. He put a small, metal loaf pan on the counter with a loud clink as the metal hit the granite surface. "Sometimes. Most of the time I just bake on the days I don't have work or when I'm working the afternoon shift."

Katniss nodded, watching as Peeta swiftly poured the dough into the pan, his face contorted with concentration. She shifted her gaze downwards, her mind out of words to say.

Pulling at a loose thread from the pocket of her hoodie, she could hear Peeta moving around the kitchen, his footsteps loud and heavy as always.

She heard a screech from the metal grinding against the wooden floor beneath her, followed by a small, almost inaudible sigh. "I'm sorry."

She turned towards him, her eyes wary. He sat two stools away from her, keeping his distance from her.

"For what?" Her voice was shallow, just above a whisper.

His shoulders slumped, his expression solemn. "For … for everything. For freaking you out."

A flash of the smile from her nightmare appeared as she blinked; it was him, she knew that. He was in her dream. He was the one who made it all go away, made the torturous, repulsive sight of her dying father disappear.

She couldn't tell him that, couldn't tell him that he had saved _her_ from her nightmares, too. It would be too much. She'd be revealing too much – too much something she didn't even know, something couldn't even begin to fathom.

She didn't speak for a moment, watching as Peeta's blue eyes became bleaker, focused on the slabs of wood that tiled the floors as she took the time to process her own thoughts.

"I can understand. Kind of."

His eyes snapped to hers, a momentary expression of relief flooding over them.

"You don't – I mean… how?" he stuttered, an usual occurrence for Peeta.

She closed her eyes, her forehead resting against the palm of her hand.

"I've been through a lot – like you have. I can understand, finding something that helps you, or makes you feel just a tiny bit okay. And wanting, with all you have, to keep that thing. Even if it is just in your dreams."

She risked a glance at him, her mind compelling her to continue for a reason she couldn't understand. After the revelations of the night, after everything, she should have wanted to hide from the boy sitting in front of her; she should have wanted nothing to do with him.

But that wasn't what she wanted.

She _did_ understand; she understood because _Peeta _made her feel just a tiny bit okay. He made her feel the way she'd felt before her dad died, and before her family shattered to tiny, sharp shards of glass, before she'd taken on the responsibilities of both of her parents. His ability to understand, to listen made her feel safe. And she_ did_ want, with all she had, to keep that with her.

She'd only felt this comfortable with one other person before – with Gale. But she'd never even been able to tell him, in so many words, what she'd gone through, or about her nightmares. He wouldn't understand, despite how hard she knew he'd try. He couldn't. He hadn't been through it – any of it.

But Peeta _had_. Peeta had lost his father, too. Peeta had also lost his mother in the process. He understood.

And that's what compelled her to continue, to speak in a way she'd never done with another person before.

"When my dad died," she started, her eyes trained on her hands as she wrung her fingers, pulling and stretching at them. "My mom kind of … disappeared, too. I mean, she was home, she was physically present, but she wasn't _really_ there. She fell into a depression, and she didn't get out of bed for months. She didn't go to work, she didn't … she didn't do anything.

"And – and we ran out of money. Fast. I mean, my parents only had so much saved up. My dad was a coal-miner. And my mom hadn't worked since I was born. And the insurance money barely even covered the bills – the mortgage and electricity and water.

"So I started working before school, and after school to make sure that Prim at least had something to eat every day. And then … and then one day, my mom got out of bed and for a moment I thought that was it. That she was going to come back, that she was going to be our _mom_ again."

Katniss paused, the disappointment she felt that day still so palpable, so real. The memory was still too vivid in her mind, as was the anger she felt. Her eyebrows creased as she continued, her nostrils flaring. "She went out, and Prim thought she'd gone to get groceries or something but she didn't come home for hours. I was at work and …and she left Prim home, _alone_. When I came back that night, she still wasn't home. She came back much later that night, and luckily, Prim was sleeping by then. She stumbled in, looking every bit Haymitch's sister."

With a fleeting glance in his direction, she noticed that Peeta had moved onto the stool closer to her, his face much closer to hers than she'd anticipated. She wrung her fingers again, pulling at them harshly. Her skin stretched too widely over her knuckles, the skin around her bones losing its color.

"I was just … I was so angry at her. I mean, I was angry at her from the moment my dad died and she turned into this hollow, shell of a person. But that night – that night, when I saw the look of worry and anxiousness on Prim's face I just … I can't find it in me to forgive her."

She ran her fingers down her plaited hair, twisting it around the length of her index finger. She suddenly felt self-conscious, hyperaware of the fact that she'd told a boy - whom she knew for all but a month - the feelings she'd kept captive for years now.

She lifted her face to his once again, eternally grateful for the look on his face – the same look he wore when she told him her 'truths' of what her favorite color was or why she didn't like ice cream.

She suddenly felt less self-conscious, knowing he was one of the few people in this world who could make her feel that way.

"Is she the one who calls you?" he asked, his expression placid, his voice soft. His eyes weren't guarded anymore, but were inviting, comforting.

She nodded, remembering the masses of ignored calls and deleted voicemails.

Katniss grimaced, her lips curling unhappily. "You probably think it's stupid – I mean, she didn't do anything _nearly_ as bad as your mom but I just … can't."

He shook his head, a wisp of blond hair falling into his eye as he covered her hands with his larger one. "Just because it's not the same kind of bad doesn't mean it was any easier on you, or on Prim."

He moved his hand from hers promptly, letting it fall limp into his own lap and she found her fingers feeling chilled from the lack of contact – an unfamiliar feeling to her.

"It just – she made it impossible for me to trust anyone after that. I mean, if you can't trust your own mother to be there for you when you need her, then who can you trust?"

He nodded, the blue in his eyes clouding as he bit on his lip. He understood, he was all too familiar with that feeling.

But then he smiled at her, warm and comforting, encouraging her to continue. And it shocked her, all at once and with vigor, how this boy had been through it all, been through the same things she'd been through, but had come out of so differently than her, so much _better_ than her. He still saw the good in people, he still gave his heart to people, to his friends. He still trusted. He still smiled in almost every moment of his life, as if he'd never seen any evil in the world.

And somehow, in his moments of doubt, deep in the darkness of the night, _she'd_ been the one to make it better.

She could not understand it.

But she did understand the rare feeling of being safe, of having something or someone that can take it all away or, in her case, make it all worth it. The person that can give you the smallest spark of hope – you don't forget them, and you don't let them go.

She'd been that person for Peeta. She'd somehow, without any effort on her part, been able to protect him from the monsters that waited for him in the dark, in his dreams.

But he'd also been that person for her. Not just in her dreams, as she'd realized in the small wink of sleep she'd managed a mere half hour ago, but in her life, too. After too many years of bending this way and that way under the stresses of what her life had become, he'd somehow coaxed her back to her old self, her seventeen-year-old self.

She bit her lip, unsure of what to say, or how much to say.

She trusted him, that much she knew; it was evident from the way she'd opened up to him in the past few minutes, and the way she'd opened up to him in the past month. But she didn't trust _herself_ to not shrink back into her shell following the admission of what she had to say, what she was feeling.

She opened her mouth to continue, to show him that she understood, that he'd helped _her_, as well.

But she couldn't.

"I get that you didn't want to let go of something that made you feel less lonely, or less afraid. I can understand that," she offered weakly. "Prim and Gale are the only people that I can trust. They're the only people who make me feel okay.

"And you," she admitted a beat later, her voice hushed, stringed with nerves and hesitancy.

Almost in slow motion, Katniss watched as Peeta's thumb moved to her cheek, his palm caressing her jaw. His skin was calloused and rough, but his touch was soft and sweet and everything that was Peeta.

Her heart lodged in her throat, her chest aching with an unfamiliar feeling. An uncomfortably pleasant, anxious feeling she couldn't pinpoint.

Her eyes flicked to his; his face was flustered, tinting a light shade of pink. But his fingers, matching the tone of his voice, were firm, resolute. "You_ can_, you know? You _can _trust me."

His fingers glided across the skin that stretched over her cheekbones, leaving a warm, foreign feeling on the surface of her face in their trail as he tucked a stray wisp of dark hair that had strayed from her twisted braid before dropping his hands to his side.

She nodded, the gesture slow and deliberate, as he smiled, the kind that ignited a hundred, thousand rampant feelings within her.

Hope, she realized, was just one of them.

* * *

Katniss groaned outwardly as she heard Johanna's voice behind her, full of an ire that Katniss hadn't missed.

It was clearly one of _those _days for Johanna. And the rest of them were just going to have to suffer her wrath, and deal with her annoyance over the most inconsequential of things.

Days like these, she truly wondered why Annie and Peeta put up with her; she wasn't sure she'd ever really get her answer.

"Listen up, Brainless. I'm going to need you to pick up your snail-like pace just a little bit so we can get these people their food, and then get them the hell out of here so that the people who are waiting out there," she barked, jabbing her finger in the air towards the small line of people that hard formed outside the entrance of the diner, "hungry and annoyed and getting on my last damn nerve, _their_ food so that they can eat, and leave and then I'll never have to see their stupid faces again."

Johanna turned on her heels, her hair nearly whipping Katniss in the process as she turned towards Peeta, her eyes narrowing down on his face.

He looked up from where he stood, running a hand through his blonde curls as he set down two plates of food onto the wooden counter, peeling the note for his next order off the wooden surface with his other hand.

He met his eyes with Katniss' for a fleeting moment, an apologetic smile on his face as there always was when Johanna went on her rampages.

"And you, lover boy," Johanna said, thrusting her thumb in his direction, all but spitting the words out. The nickname was a new one, one that Katniss hadn't heard before. "Get your mind out of whatever la-la land it's stuck in today and back on the burgers you need to grill. One more burnt patty and I'm firing you."

Katniss felt herself smirk – she couldn't remember Peeta grilling even one burger to imperfection today, and there was nothing wrong with the pace she was working at. Johanna just needed something to say, something to yell about.

Her eyes flicked to Peeta as he rolled his eyes good naturedly, a smile spread wide across his face, "Got it, Jo."

Johanna muttered something under her breath - most likely a string of swears - as she turned around, trudging back to the counter. She spoke to the next round of customers, plastering on her face a smile so fake that Katniss had to wonder why she even bothered.

Katniss quirked her eyebrow as she neared the counter, orders from her last table in hand. She stuck them to the wooden surface before slumping against the counter.

"Well, she's just a ray of sunshine today," she said wryly, the words sticking in her throat when she realized just how much like her uncle she sounded.

Peeta nodded, "I wouldn't take her too seriously – I think she's just pissed about Annie going to see Finnick and stuff."

"Plus," Katniss added, "it's Friday. You know how much she loves those."

Peeta chuckled, small wrinkles forming around his chapped lips. "Yeah, she's quite a fan of the weekend rush, that one. Even more so when we're down one on staff."

Katniss felt her own lips tug upwards. "I guess we won't really have time to do the portrait today in between crowds, then."

Peeta's face suddenly jolted with new-found excitement. In a way, it reminded her of Prim's face on Christmas morning. Her expression was always one of pure, unadulterated joy – regardless of how grand, or small her present was. To Prim, a present was a present, and Christmas morning was always the best day of her existence.

"I didn't tell you?" he asked, his deep voice almost giddy. "I finished it!"

She frowned. How had she managed to miss that? "When?"

Peeta laughed, the sound loud even in the clamor of the crowded restaurant. "Officially, last night but I just added the finishing touched this morning and—"

"Can I _finally_ see it, now?" she asked, cutting him off.

It was a wonder that she had managed to be patient for _this _long, but she wasn't sure she'd last any longer.

"Not yet. " His smile faltered dramatically, the amusement in his eyes growing.

"Why?" she hissed.

"Well … because, as an artist, this painting is like my child, my masterpiece. And, so it's revealing has to be – well, I guess dramatic is the word I'm looking for."

Katniss rolled her eyes. "Like what? Have a special, VIP midnight showing for it here at the diner?" she snapped, her voice wry.

He bit his lip, trying to conceal the smile that was fighting to inch its way to his face – a failed attempt on his part. "Well, no … I was thinking something a bit … simpler? Like, dinner tomorrow night? At my place? I'll cook you some food to thank you for being _so_ patient and then I'll show you the painting."

"But you cook me dinner every night," she pointed out. "Besides, don't we have work?"

"Well… this will be different. A little more special than just burger and fries in a foam box." He paused, his jovial expression faltering a bit, sensing her apprehension. "I mean, only if you want. It's not really that big a deal – I could show you tomorrow anyway, sans dinner.

"And we close early tomorrow – its Cedar Point day. They make this whole thing out of it with a carnival on the boardwalk and fireworks and stuff."

She shook her head, pushing the hesitancy she felt out of her mind. "Dinner's okay, as long as I get a strawberry cupcake, too."

Peeta's lips tugged upwards, a smile spilling across his face. "You'll get two."

For a brief, quick moment, the feeling of Peeta's fingers, warm and soft, trailing across her face flashed in her mind. She shifted her gaze from him, suddenly uncomfortable, the same unfamiliar, confusing feeling pooling in her gut.

Picking up the plates of food from the counter swiftly, she shook her head, trying but failing to force the foreign feelings away.

* * *

Katniss clenched her nostrils shut, her face contorting with disgust as she picked up the small cylinder container of dill powder, and then garlic powder, shaking both into the large vat of mayonnaise in front of her.

Apparently, covering Annie's shift also meant covering Annie's job of making the dressing. Her nose scrunched up as the strong, pungent scent of mayo wafted towards her, her hands mechanically moving about, mixing the odd concoction of different flavored powders and herb leaves.

Her eyes flicked towards the clock hanging above her, the time reading 6:47 PM. The diner had closed nearly an hour ago, and Peeta had all but disappeared without any notice as soon as the last customer had been served his dinner. Brick and Sae had cleaned up quickly, leaving just her and Johanna in the diner; Katniss figured they were eager to get back to their families, ready to begin the festivities for the night.

Johanna slumped in next to her; the long, dangly necklace that hung off of her bony frame hitting the metal counter Katniss worked on with a loud _clink_. She peered at the large bowl of dressing, a wry, sarcastic smile smeared across her face.

"Sucks to be you," She said, her voice matching her smile.

Katniss grumbled her response, the words coming out a mumbled mess. She glanced sideways at the dark-haired girl next to her, giving her a dirty look for good measure.

Johanna laughed in return, the sound loud and snarky in Katniss' ears. She really couldn't stand her sometimes.

"So …" Johanna started, a moment later, a little swing in her ankles as they dangled off the side of the counter. "You're having dinner with Peeta tonight?"

Katniss' head whipped towards her, her eyes squinting. "How do you know about that?"

Johanna rolled her eyes, but the smallest of smiles played on her lips as she chewed a slab of gum in her mouth loudly. "He told me. Duh."

Katniss nodded, her movement terse. "Yeah, it's for the portrait. He wants to reveal it, or something."

She turned back to the dressing, twisting the spoon around the large vat one last time before dipping in a plastic spoon to taste it.

From the corner of her eyes, she could see Johanna's head bobbing up and down as her eyes narrowed down on Katniss, giving her a once over.

"What?" Katniss snapped as she put the spoon down – thankfully, the ranch dressing was done.

Johanna handed her the plastic lid from the metal bowl, popping her gum in her mouth loudly. "Please, tell me you aren't gonna show up to Peeta's looking like … _that._"

Pressing her fingers down on the edges to make sure the lid was properly positioned, her eyes dropped down to her clothes; underneath her fraying apron, she wore a gray t-shirt and her jeans - it was her usual attire.

She shrugged, peeling the sticky, now almost gooey gloves from her hands. "Why wouldn't I?"

Johanna shook her head, "You seriously _are_ brainless, aren't you?"

Katniss' eyebrows knit together in anger, but before she could retort a bitter reply, Johanna continued.

"Come with me, I'll make you look at least a _little _bit presentable," she said, hopping off from the metal ledge, taking her keys out from her pocket.

Katniss stilled, frowning. "I look fine," she mumbled.

"Do you not remember anything of what I told you before we went to that party? Colors make you look more _alive_ and less like you're about to go work at the local morgue."

Katniss stared at her still, not budging and the older girl snapped her fingers at her, irritation clearly etched across her face.

"I'm not taking no for an answer, Everdeen," she barked, heading towards the front of the diner. Katniss begrudgingly followed. "Let's go."

* * *

Katniss' eye twitched, grunting as Johanna hovered over her, prodding at her eyelids with a pointy-edged pencil.

"Just hold still," Johanna snapped, her fingers pressing into Katniss' shoulder.

Katniss slumped; she had just assumed Johanna would throw a shirt at her – bright pink, or orange, that barely covered her body, leaving most of her skin bare – and that would be that, like it had been when they'd gone to that party weeks ago.

But instead, Johanna had simply sat Katniss on the stool in front of the large vanity mirror in her room, promptly pointing out each flaw on her face. "You're eyebrows are so bushy, have you ever even _heard_ of a tweezer?" and "Would it kill you to leave your hair out for once? I swear if I have to see this damn braid one more time …"

"Is this really necessary?" Katniss grumbled, her agitation with the older girl growing each second. "I mean, shouldn't you be at the Cedar Point day festival thing anyway?"

Johanna's fingers stilled over her eye for a minute, the jagged edge of the pointed pencil lingering right above her eyelashes, before she pulled it along the length of her lid. She dropped the pencil to the table, releasing her grip on Katniss' shoulder.

"I usually go with Annie … and since she's not here," she shrugged, her shoulders slumping carelessly. "I guess I'm just gonna stay home."

Katniss' eyebrow, now clean and plucked, rose. "Why don't you go with Cato? Isn't he your boyfriend?"

Johanna's expression contorted, his face scrunching up. "No – I mean, I don't know if he's my boyfriend or not but he's not the kind of guy I'd go to the carnival with. The carnival's a special thing, and he's not really a special guy."

Despite her mostly unfavorable feelings towards the dark-haired girl, her interest couldn't help but be piqued. "Then why are you dating him?"

Johanna shrugged non-committedly. "He's good for more of a time-pass thing. It's not serious."

She coaxed Katniss' hair out from the braid it was in, the strands falling in waves down her back.

"I know you were here for that whole fight Annie and I had, and she was right about Cato. He is a whore. But it doesn't really bother me – I don't _love_ him or anything." She paused, biting her lip, leaving a white imprint on the pink skin as she continued, "He's just good for those nights, you know, when you're just extra lonely and need another body to cuddle with."

It wasn't a feeling Katniss was familiar with, needing someone to be there with her, but she nodded anyway.

"I don't even know if love exists. I mean, Annie does, she believes in it with all she has but she's also been heartbroken because of a guy before. And I haven't." She shrugged. "I don't really know which is better – believing in love and letting yourself get hurt in the process or not believing, and keeping yourself whole. Safe."

She looked down at Katniss expectantly as she ran her hand through her hair, and Katniss shrugged, as usual at a loss for words.

She didn't know if she believed in love. Sometimes, she saw people, saw how happy and brilliant they looked wrapped up in their lovers, and she believed. Sometimes, she remembered the way her parents used to look at each other, in a daze, as if no one else existed in the world but the two of them, and she believed.

But then she remembered her mother, after her father died. She remembered her uncle, after the love of his life left him; the claws of desperation that tore at them, the tendrils of emptiness that wounded itself tightly around their entire existence, suffocating them, the hollow void that enveloped them whole. And despite the fact that sometimes, she believed, she knew that she wanted no part of it.

Johanna tossed a shirt at Katniss, pulling her out of her reverie. "Try this on, it'll go with your jeans." she said, stalking out of the room.

Katniss examined the shirt; it was yellow and sleeveless, the area near the neckline covered with a mesh type of net, but it didn't show off more skin than that. She pulled it on, enjoying the way it hung off her frame. It wasn't tight, and it didn't stick to her skin as she had suspected a shirt given from Johanna would.

She pushed her hair behind her ears before walking out of the room, her own shirt tucked under her arm.

Johanna's eyes rose to her as she stood in front of the television box, an apple hanging by her fingertips.

She nodded appraisingly, "You look good. Just one more thing …" she said, fumbling through her purse. She pulled out a small, colorful tube.

Johanna smeared the gooey liquid across her lips, tracing the outline of her lips with the tip of her cold fingers. "There. Now, do you need a ride?"

Katniss shook her head, the ends of her hair tickling her bare shoulders. "No, I need the walk."

Johanna nodded, lazily falling onto her couch, her long legs extending on to the small coffee table. She reached for the remote, seeing Katniss out with a wave of her fingers. "See ya."

Katniss paused at the door, her fingers twisting the door knob. She could see, if only for a fleeting moment, what Peeta and Annie saw in the dark haired girl. She wasn't quite as awful as she made herself seem.

She was just protecting her heart, and that was something Katniss could understand.

"Thank you, Johanna."

* * *

Tugging at her hair with one hand, Katniss knocked on Peeta's door.

It was absurd, she thought as she gnawed on her upper lip, how her nerves threatened to paralyze her. She'd been here, in Peeta's garage, too many times before to be nervous about it now. But she couldn't help it, didn't know how to contain her emotions.

He opened the door a moment later, a warm smile on his lips that managed to calm her erratic nerves just a little bit.

"Hey," he said, stepping back to let her in, his eyes lingering for a quick second on her bright shirt, "you look nice."

He looked calmer than she did, but the way his fingers fidgeted with the buttons of his dark brown shirt told her otherwise; knowing that he felt even a hint of the nervous electricity she felt made her feel better.

"Thanks" she responded, a nervous tremor in her voice as she tugged at her shirt. She glanced around the room, noticing that most of the clutter that normally surrounded his room had been cleaned up. The paintings still hung, in a wonderfully eclectic fashion, against his walls, but the floors were less cluttered, and she wondered where he'd stowed the rest of his stuff. He'd set up a small circular table, the same folding table Katniss had seen on the deck upstairs before, with two chairs around it.

Her eyes caught on a black figure, covered in a dark sheath in the far corner of the room, away from the couch, and she inched towards it. Peeta followed behind her.

"So, do I get to see the portrait now?" She turned around, a hint of a smile in her gray eyes.

He chuckled, the sound low in his throat, "Not yet … dinner first."

She groaned, though she obliged when she felt the violent grumbling coming from within her stomach.

He led her to his make-shift dinner table, his hand resting on the small of her back in a way that made all the heat from her body pool to her belly. And suddenly, she wasn't as hungry anymore.

"You didn't have to do this," she said, taking a seat on the folding chair, waving at the table in front of her. "We could have just as well eaten upstairs."

He lifted his shoulders, a beautiful combination of blue and green swimming in his eyes. "I wanted to."

He walked towards the other corner of his room, his 'kitchen' the garage, and came back with two plates of food in his hand. He set them on the table, next to the utensils and drinks he'd already set out beforehand.

She was almost taken aback by his careful planning, his generosity. But then again, it was Peeta, and being kind and generous was what _made_ him.

"I'm not as great with the stove as I am with the oven and the grill …" he grimaced lightly, taking his seat, "but I tried. And I had some help from these two little girls I happen to know."

She shook her head, eyeing the food on her plate. Long, thick strands of pasta filled the deep set plate, lathered in a creamy white sauce, with small, pink colored shrimps peeking from under the pasta. It was probably better than anything she'd eaten; it certainly looked it.

Peeta stood abruptly, Katniss' eyes shifting from her food to his eyes.

"I forgot the bread," he said, a sheepish smile on his lips. He walked back to the counter near the sink, retrieving a small basket that looked comically tiny in his large hands.

He set it on the table, taking his seat once again.

He peeled back the corners of the cloth that covered the bread, revealing small, yellow buns.

"Try one," he said, pushing the basket towards her with his fingers.

She picked one up, the bun warm and soft in her hands, her mouth watering from just the scent of it. She tore a piece off of it, unleashing steam from within the bread as she did so.

She lifted her fingers to her mouth, the bread all but melting onto her tongue. The buttery, cheesy taste exploded inside her mouth; this was _truly_ better than anything she'd had before.

"This is amazing!" she said, covering her mouth with her fingers, her mouth still full of bread.

He beamed. "Thanks! They used to be my dad's favorites. It's an odd combination, but he always made it with Shrimp Fettucini."

"What is it? Is there cheese in here?" she asked, swallowing the last chunk of the bun she held in her fingers before reaching for another one.

"Yeah, they're called cheese buns." He nodded, smiling widely. "My dad was real original with the names.

"It was one of the first things I learned to bake at my parent's bakery." He added, and it amazed her how he could speak of his past without the same bitterness or sadness, that she couldn't seem to avoid, filling his voice.

She swallowed the remaining half of her second cheese bun, the bread sliding deliciously down her throat before he picked up her fork, twisting it in the pasta.

"How do you do that?" she finally asked.

He snorted, his fork paused halfway to his mouth, hanging in the air. "How do I do what?" He asked carefully.

"How do you … how do you do _that_? Talk about things from the past without getting sad or angry or whatever?"

His smile faltered, his fingers resting his fork back on the plate before moving to his chin. He opened his mouth to speak, but then shut it.

The color from her face drained as he hesitated to speak; she'd told him more than she'd told anyone, but maybe he wasn't ready to tell _her_ things yet. Maybe it was too personal. She shouldn't have asked. It wasn't her place.

"I'm sorry," she said, attempting to back-pedal. "You don't have to tell me if you don't—"

He shook his head, cutting her off. "It's not – it's not that. It's just, I mean, I guess I don't know. I was trying to think of an answer, a way to explain it but I'm not sure I really have an answer."

He paused, looking like he had more to add. Katniss waited patiently, chewing the pasta slowly in her mouth.

"I guess, I'd rather just forgive and forget than dwell on the things that happened. I mean, it wasn't _all_ bad. There was more good in my life, in fact, than there was bad before my dad died. My family was a happy one most of the time, and I try to remember that than to remember how awful it got after he was gone."

"I wish I could do that – forgive, I mean. I wish I could forgive my mother." Her heart swelled in her chest, making it hard to breathe. She wanted to be more like Peeta; she wanted to absorb some of his good and push out all the bad that she had within her that threatened to suffocate her very existence some days. "Am I a bad person for not being able to forgive her?"

His fingers brushed hers as he rested his hand on hers. "Of course not. Katniss, you are one of the strongest people I have _ever _met. You aren't angry at your mother for selfish reasons. You aren't angry at her for abandoning _you_. You're angry because she abandoned your sister. That doesn't make you a bad person."

He swallowed, his adam's apple bobbing. "You're the best kind of person there is. You just don't see yourself for who you are. You don't know the kind of effect you have on people."

Katniss felt her cheeks warm, her skin prickle from his words. He patted her hand before letting it go, taking one last bite of his pasta. She looked down at her plate and noticed that she'd finished her food, as well.

He patted his face with a tissue, his lips stretching widely across his face, excitement bubbling in his eyes. "Okay, are you ready for the portrait?"

Katniss looked up at him, his excitement contagious. "Really? I can see it now?"

He laughed, standing up. "Well, I was actually gonna wait until after dessert but, I think now is as good a time as any."

She followed him as he led her to the black form that she'd wandered to earlier.

He put his arms on her shoulders, turning her body around. "No peeking yet," he scolded mockingly.

She sighed, crossing her arms across her chest. He was being so dramatic about all this.

She heard movement behind her, but kept her promise, not turning back.

She felt his hand on her arms a moment later, the other hand shielding her eyes.

"Okay," he said, twisting her back the other way, his nerves audible in his voice. "Here it is."

He let his hand fall to his side, finally revealing to her what she'd been itching to see for weeks now.

She let out an audible gasp; it was beautiful. It resembled her, yes, but it _wasn't _her. It _couldn't_ be her.

The girl in the picture sat behind the dunes at the beach, her legs covered by the roots and weeds of the small plants that rose from the sand. Her skin was a creamy, rich olive color. Her eyes were like glass; brilliant shards in a hundred different shades of gray, each shade tinted just lightly by the orange-pink glow of the sky as the sun swooped low into the horizon behind her . Her hair wasn't the simple braid Katniss usually wore. It was twisted in an elaborate braid, the kind her mother used to twist her hair into for events like Christmas Dinner and birthdays when she was younger. Her lips, shaded with a rosy tinge, were curled upwards, in a smile that looked like she held a secret.

She was not pretty; she was not beautiful. She was as radiant as the sun.

Katniss turned to Peeta, his face just inches from hers, her eyes wide with awe. "This isn't me, Peeta. But she's … she's beautiful. Beyond it."

His lips curved in the softest of smiles. "It _is_ you, Katniss. You are beautiful. That is exactly how I see you."

Her own lips imitated his, her heart beating in every inch of her body. Her fingers buzzed with a jittery feeling, a deliciously uncomfortable warmth pooling in her gut.

His face inched towards her, his fingers finding hers. He laced his rough, calloused fingers through hers, and squeezed lightly.

His eyes held a question, a question he was too afraid to ask out loud.

She placed her hand on his chest, and leaned in closer, meeting his lips with hers.

They were warm but chapped, and sweet, just like Peeta, as they moved under hers slowly, softly. His other hand moved to her back, pulling her in closer.

Her heart swelled, beating too fast, drumming loudly in her ears.

And just like that, he pulled back, his fingers feathering over her lips where his had been just a mere second ago.

He let out a shaky breath, revealing a smile bigger than she'd ever seen him wear before.

It warmed her heart.

He kept his fingers knotted with hers, his thumb aimlessly tracing her palm. "Dessert?"

* * *

Katniss tip-toed into her room, padding softly across the creaks in the wooden floor to where her clothes lay in a pile on the floor. She pulled off her jeans, and set Johanna's shirt on a nearby chair, reminding herself to return it the next day.

She pulled on her tank top and shorts, walking quietly into the bathroom.

She turned the faucet on, splashing her face with the cold water, removing the make-up that was now smudged from her face.

Drying her face, she stared at her reflection.

She felt different, felt … she didn't _know_ how she felt. But she didn't look any different. She traced her fingers across her lips, almost disbelieving that Peeta's lips, warm and soft, had been there only a little while ago.

He hadn't kissed her again, not even as they walked to the beach, their fingers intertwined between them, but her heart hadn't stopped beating at an unusual pace since his lips touched hers.

She brushed her teeth, swiping her face with the back of her hand before heading back into the room, shutting the light behind her.

She climbed in under the covers, and felt Prim's body roll towards her.

A pair of blue eyes blinked at her, laced heavily with sleep.

"You're back?" Prim asked, her voice quiet and tired.

Katniss nodded, turning towards her baby sister.

"How was your date?" Prim asked, and though Katniss couldn't see it, she could hear the smile in her voice.

"It wasn't a date …" Katniss replied, her voice sounding weird to even her own ears.

"Did he kiss you?" Prim asked eagerly, all traces of sleep now gone from her voice.

Katniss' jaw dropped. "Prim!" she reprimanded, "I'm not going to tell you that!"

"But why?" Prim's sweet voice whined, "I'm your sister!"

"My _baby_ sister," Katniss corrected, "I can't … we can't talk about these things, yet."

Prim huffed loudly, her chest rising with the effort as she turned away from Katniss.

"I'm not that young, Katniss." She stifled a yawn. "But whatever, I'll just take that as a yes, then."

"Prim!" she scolded again, earning a small giggle from the younger girl.

She shook her head; her sister knew her better than she did; she didn't really expect her to not find out. It still didn't make any less awkward for her, though.

A moment later, she could hear the even breathing coming from the other end of the bed, and she knew her sister had fallen back into her slumber. She focused her breathing on her sister's, matching her inhales and exhales, and it wasn't too long before she was asleep herself.

* * *

_a/n: okay, so after the slight angst/weirdness after the last chapter, i hope this left you all content! i hope you guys liked it! two more to go, now. that's a little bittersweet._

_also, a mini-shout out to the few of you who reach out to me on tumblr and twitter - i love hearing from you guys! and __of course, a thank you to Leigh for editing! _

_reviews, as always, are appreciated! thank you all for the support! and i **swear** i'm working on replying to reviews, i'm just really, painfully slow :(_


	9. Chapter 9

_a/n: as always, you guys blow my mind with all the support! thank you for all of the reviews, favorites and alerts! and thank you, as always, to Leigh for editing!_

* * *

Slowly blinking her eyes open, Katniss shifted uncomfortably under the warm sheets, her legs tangled into the soft cotton; her skin, sheening with a slick layer of sweat, prickled from the humid air that made it hard to breathe, and she lazily wondered what time it was. It didn't matter today; Annie was back home and working her usual shift tonight.

She'd had a good night's sleep, her brain relenting to the persistent, sturdy wisps of exhaustion that wrapped themselves around her, a result from the lack of sleep in the past few nights. There were no dreams, not ones that could remember anyway, and she preferred the darkness of her dreamless nights to the terrors of her nightmare-filled ones any day.

She closed her eyes, the smell of something warm and delicious wafting through her nose, filling the air with a citrusy, tangy smell. It smelled a little bit like Peeta's room, and just the thought of the grungy basement, splashes of color bouncing off of the walls, the floor, brought the odd, tingly sensations back to the pit of her stomach that she was now becoming fairly accustomed to.

She pulled at her limbs, her toes and fingers outstretching in opposite directions as far her body would allow in hopes of escape the almost painful swirls in her gut, only tossing her head back against her pillow when her efforts had clearly failed.

Last night, the painting, the kiss, all played back in her mind and she felt the color drain from her face, her heartbeat thumping too loudly in her ears, beating rapidly under her chest, her toes, her fingertips.

She wanted to hide, _of course_ she wanted to hide – hide from the feelings and hide from the emotions that she knew inevitably accompanied the feelings. These feelings were foreign, were strangers to her. This territory was completely uncharted, and now that she found herself in the midst of it, all she wanted to do was back-peddle, swim in waters that were comfortable, familiar, follow blindly into the direction of the wind that she knew all so well, a path she could follow without opening her eyes.

But she couldn't, not anymore. She knew that much. She had never had a boyfriend, not even anything close to it. But she knew what she felt the night before, and although it wasn't as familiar as the solitude she'd grown to love, nor as comfortable, it was something she _wanted_. It was something she wanted, not because it affected her survival, or the well-being of her sister. It was something that she wanted, the _only_ thing she wanted that came without other strings attached or loose ends. It was something she wanted just for herself; it was something she wanted simply because she _could_ want to want it.

She wanted Peeta, and in the comfort of her bed and the privacy and confines of her own mind she knew that she could admit that. She wanted to open up to people. She wanted to give love, to receive love, to allow love the way only Peeta knew how, despite all the bad in the world. She wanted to feel young, to feel seventeen, to feel hopeful in the terrifying, unyielding face of the future.

She wanted to believe the way Annie believed: in love, in happiness, in the good things that _had_ to exist in the world because it existed in Annie, and it existed in Prim and it existed in Peeta.

And she would. She would open up, she would give and receive love and she would believe. Katniss was resilient, and she was strong and she _knew_ that. But when it came to the matters of the heart, she shied away, protecting her heart with a steel armor that she now realized was just cowardice in disguise. So instead of following, with her eyes shut, into the winds that she knew, she would simply adjust her sails and lurch forward into a path that she didn't know.

She reached for her phone as a loud, chiming bell rang, echoing loudly from across the room on the desk where she'd left it the night before. She clambered out of bed, the comforter slipping from her legs as she rose and falling into a heap on the floor.

The small screen flashed 'Annie' in blue letters and Katniss flipped the phone open, her finger pressing at the fading green button.

"Hello?"

"Hi," Annie's sweet voice came on the other line, her sweet voice muffled by her breaths, long and shallow on the phone. "I'm so, so sorry, I know you covered for me all last week but—"

Her voice cracked, a raw emotion Katniss had never heard before in Annie's voice now present. She didn't sound like herself; her ever-present cheery tone was missing, a sad, low murmur replacing it instead. "I just _really_ need you to cover for me tonight. I swear I'll make it up to you."

"Sure, of course." Katniss paused, frowning. A deep, irrational fear creeping up her stomach, fighting its way to her lungs as her heart raced under her worn tank top. "Annie, is everything okay? Are you okay?"

Annie let out a noise – something in between a snort of laughter and a sob – the sound too sardonic, too twisted to be truly Annie's. "I'm … I'm fine …" her voice wavered.

Katniss waited for her to continue, wishing with all she had that Annie wouldn't tell her what she feared she would. She heard something rustle in the background before Annie sighed loudly, "I'm _not _fine.

"Finnick," Annie sniffled, her voice thick but suddenly impossibly small at the same time, "Finnick cheated on me."

And just like that, all of her resolve, all the words she used to convince herself not five minutes ago swiftly dissipated right before her, looming over her head in a black cloud instead; somehow leaving her feeling hollower than she ever did before.

* * *

Katniss braced herself as she stood outside the small blue house, a red door, bright and inviting before her. She'd only ever had been here at night, not seeing the house for what it was really was before. It was warm; it was comfortable. It reminded her so very much of everything that Annie was.

She pulled the large bag of chocolate she'd bought on the way from the Mini-Market from the plastic bag that was twisted around her right wrist, along with a small container of sugar cookies that she'd found on the breakfast table earlier that morning. She had brought them both at the advice of her little sister Prim, who seemed to be better equipped to handle any kind of wound - both physical and emotional – than she was, though Katniss wasn't quite sure if _she_ was equipped to handle just why her fourteen year old sister knew the latter.

She knocked on the door gingerly, her knuckles sounding loudly against the wood.

She knocked again a second later, turning her head towards the street, her eyes scanning across the cars scattered along curb. Johanna's was missing, and she wondered if maybe Annie had gone along with her.

She knocked one last time, turning the knob to make sure. It twisted all the way, the door opening a small gap.

Katniss peaked in, noting that the television was off, and the kitchen looked untouched. But a small, muffling noise came from somewhere inside the house, a noise so faint that maybe it would have gone unnoticed by anyone else, but with years of hunting behind her, her ears were sensitive to the smallest of noises.

The wood creaking slightly beneath her feet as she shut the door behind her, she padded slowly through the house, following the soft noise that became clearer as Katniss neared the sole bedroom of the house.

She knocked on it, her palm banging on the door lightly, twisting the knob a second later when she heard nothing but the continuation of the sound that sounded more like a moan now, guttural and throaty and raw.

Katniss' heart lodged in her throat. Her fingers gripped the plastic container in her hands tightly, turning the tips of her fingers a pale, translucent color.

Annie lay on the smell bed in the far right corner of the room, her side of her shared bedroom. Her chin tucked in her elbow, her legs curled under her, her eyes rimmed with red. Her eye lashes were thick and wet, her cheeks stained with the wetness that sheened her eyes.

She made no attempt to move, no attempt to recognize Katniss' presence; her eyes focused on a spot on the floor, as her body heaved with her sobs, her chest rising up and down violently.

Protecting people – people whom she loved – was an instinct for Katniss, something she'd been trained to do her whole life. She didn't know how to be taken care of, but taking care of _others _came easily to her.

She dropped the chocolates and cookies on Johanna's vanity table where she remembered spending an excruciating amount of time, and angrily wondered where the hell the older girl was. She should be here, should be helping Annie.

Katniss quickly walked to the kitchen, opening three cabinets before she found the one that held glasses, and opened the tap, filling a glass to the rim.

Her father had always said that there was no better cure for tears than a glass of cold water, and even now, Katniss could recall the way the cold water rushed through her body, easing the ache that throbbed in the back of her throat, leveling the unbearable heat that swept through her body and her throat, already sore from the tears.

She crouched by Annie's bed, thrusting the glass towards Annie, and her green eyes widened, as if noticing Katniss for the first time.

Annie feebly clutched at the glass, her sobs shaking the water roughly, spilling some onto the bed sheet as Katniss helped her lift her body.

She reluctantly took a small sip of the water, her sobs transforming into smaller hiccups almost immediately. She met her green eyes with Katniss' grey ones, the small golden flicks bright from the sunlight that peered through the window, dancing along the walls of the small room. She wiped her face with the back of her hand as she took another sip, and then another until her hiccups turned to sniffles, tears no longer dripping along the side of her face but instead held captive in her eyes.

Annie whispered a thank you, her voice raspy and sore before she averted her eyes away from Katniss, her eyes focused on the erratic pattern of the blanket that was thrown lazily across her bed; it was hot, maybe the hottest day of the summer and the heat only exacerbated the misery Katniss felt.

"Are you okay?" Katniss asked, knowing it was a stupid question – of course she wasn't okay, she was far from okay – but not knowing what else to say.

Annie shook her head, the hair that was matted to her forehead falling from her forehead, framing her face.

Katniss stood, remembering Prim's advice and walked towards the vanity. She came back, sitting on the edge of the bed this time, and handed Annie the plastic bag and container of sweets uncertainly, a wry smile on her face. "Comfort food." She shrugged, "I hear it's supposed to help."

Annie managed a smile, despite her tears, and nodded gratefully. "Thank you."

Katniss nodded, not knowing what else to do from here. Gale was the only other person she knew who had ever gone through a break-up – but he handled them much differently. An extra shift at his dad's garage fixing up cars and listening to angry music, an extra hour at the gym letting his aggression out, an extra beer at night to ease the pain. Although, judging from what Katniss had seen in the past, Gale hadn't ever had his heart broken. Not the way Annie had.

She silently wondered if she should ask Annie what had happened, or if Annie even wanted to talk about it.

"I was wrong," Annie started quietly, solving Katniss' dilemma. She wiped her face roughly with the tip of her fingers one last time, now splotched with patches of white and red, "I was wrong about Finnick. I was wrong about –"

She sniffled again, and Katniss stood and walked to the bathroom, a long line of toilet paper flying in her hand as she came back. Annie moved to the other edge of the bed, making room for Katniss.

Katniss climbed in, realizing she'd never done anything like _this_ before; sitting in a bed with a girlfriend, talking about a bad break-up … this, much like the rest of her summer, was new territory. She looked to Annie's face as she handed her the make-shift tissues, and was glad that of all the people she'd met this summer, Annie was the one she was sharing this new experience with.

Annie started again, her voice still quivering, but only slightly now. "My parents have been together for twenty-seven years. They've been married for twenty-four. The love that they share, the way they feel about each other – like they need each other to survive, they complete one another. I wanted that. I wanted that so badly. And I thought I found it. I thought I was _so_ lucky because I didn't have to sift through the good boys and the bad boys – I already found the one. I thought Finnick was the _one …_"

Annie's voice trailed off, her eyes staring at her fingers helplessly. Katniss was at a loss.

"You deserve better than that. You deserve better than him." She surprised herself as the words tumbled out of her; she didn't understand Annie's deep want for a relationship, for love that lasted. She didn't, _couldn't_ comprehend wanting to _need_ somebody, wanting someone to complete you. But the words of support still broke through her. "You'll find the one like your parents did some day. Just give it time."

Annie shook her head, her shoulders slumped. "I don't know if I believe in that anymore. I always believed in that fairy-tale kinda love that can overcome _anything_, but – but maybe Jo's right. Maybe it exists for a few lucky people, like my parents, but it doesn't exist for everyone."

Annie's shoulders drooped further, her dark, wavy hair mussed in a haphazard bun above her head. She flicked her eyes towards Katniss', the green bright, wide, sad.

"Maybe, sometimes love isn't enough." She said finally, her voice soft. She peeled the foil off of a small piece of chocolate, offering the larger plastic bag to Katniss. "My love just wasn't enough for Finnick."

Katniss remained quiet, not knowing what to say as always. There was nothing she _could_ say that would make Annie feel better. She never believed in that always-kind-of love. She didn't think that people could love each other enough to overcome the greatest of obstacles together. She thought love just crippled people – the way love had crippled her mother. And though, for the smallest of moments, she thought that maybe, _maybe_ love didn't have to be so crippling, that it didn't have to be the worst thing to happen, she couldn't believe that anymore. She couldn't let her guard down only to be broken a few short minutes later. She couldn't bear to care for anyone other than the few people she already cared for; the fear of losing them was already large enough, she couldn't add to her list. If Annie's love wasn't enough, there was no way _anything_ that Katniss could offer to anyone would be enough.

She briefly glanced at her cell-phone, the metal device sitting abandoned on Annie's nightstand. The screen flashed numbers at her in blue; it was close to four.

"I should get to the diner soon," Katniss said after a beat of silence.

Annie turned towards her, her eyes wide as she nodded. "Thank you for taking my shift, by the way. I just – I couldn't handle –"

Katniss shook her head as she lifted herself from the bed, "It's okay, don't worry about it."

Then she reached down, surprising herself for the second time, and wrapped her arms around Annie's small, thin frame. If she was shocked, Annie hid it well, and hugged her back fiercely.

"Thanks, Katniss. For everything," she whispered before letting her go.

Katniss nodded and padded out of the house, the wood creaking in the same spots it had when she had walked in.

As she trudged down the small steps, and onto the sidewalk, she heard loud music filtering through from the large window of the house she'd just left. Kelly Clarkson's voice bounced off the walls.

Katniss turned, glancing back at the blue house with the red door, the dark shadow of Annie's body, swaying, her hands over her head swinging wildly, her voice echoing through the street as she sang along.

* * *

The tingling sensation she'd felt the night before, the burning in her gut now just felt like electrical shots, nipping at her skin, painful and unwanted. The thumping that echoed in her head, her heartbeat sounding loudly, vibrating in every inch of her body like a melody now sounded like a death march.

She shifted her eyes from Peeta's confused, blue ones as she wiped down her last table and turned to Johanna, who sat in her usual position behind the counter, her shoulders slumped, her fingers working quickly over the piles of cash, her mouth moving but silent. She wound a rubber band around a wad of cash quickly, her movements quicker, jerkier than usual.

Her head snapped up to Katniss, her hair piled on top of her hand, a pencil sticking through the bun. Her voice was annoyed, but a watered down version of its usual snarky tone; she sounded tired. "You done?"

Katniss nodded and Johanna's swiveled in her stool towards Peeta, repeating her snipped question.

He walked towards them, five white Styrofoam boxes stalked in his arms. "Yup, I packed dinner for you and Annie – and I made a few of those red velvet cupcakes she likes…" he said, shrugging.

"Alright, let's get out of here. I need to get home, see what state Annie's in now." Johanna said, balancing the three boxes in her hands as she fished in her pockets for the key to the diner.

Peeta and Katniss both nodded, filing out of the front door, Johanna trailing behind them.

Peeta took a few steps towards the boardwalk before he turned to Katniss, his hands still clutching both of their Styrofoam boxes, his eyes questioning. His voice was worried, and the electrical shots she felt pinched her skin harder. "Are you okay?"

She nodded, stuffing her fingers in her pockets, her lips a thin line.

"So, to the beach?" Peeta tried again, his eyes squinting slightly. His lips stretched across his face unsurely, his smile crooked.

Katniss rubbed her neck, a habit, she realized, she'd picked up from Peeta. She dropped her hands to her side, balling her fingers into her palms, pressing her jagged nails into her skin. "I actually don't feel very well," she said, not exactly lying. She didn't know _how_ she was feeling – her emotions were scattered, confused – but she didn't feel _well_, that much she knew. "I think I'm just going to go home."

Peeta looked relieved, if only for a moment and an easier smile took place of the half-smile he wore before. "Oh! Well, I'll walk you home. I can make you some—"

Katniss shook her head, her voice catching in her throat. "I actually would rather just be alone."

Peeta's expression fell, his eyebrows knitting together, a small crease appearing in the middle of them. "Oh," he murmured. "Okay. I'll, uh, I'll see you later then."

She nodded, meeting him halfway as he handed her a take-out box. His fingers grazed hers, and she wanted to yelp from the currents she felt.

She turned around, avoiding his steady gaze, and walked away from him, in the direction of the familiar winds, towards the comfortable territory she'd known all her life.

* * *

That night, sleep wasn't as easy to come as the night before; her thoughts were too wild, scattered, lurching from one end to another without any clear coherence or consistency and she couldn't quite think straight anyway with the hot air that hung heavy in her room creeping up her legs, making it impossible to get comfortable.

She turned to face Prim, her baby sister's sleeping form curled into a small ball, blonde wisps of her hair matting to her forehead, her skin slick from sweat. Katniss stood and yanked the light covers off of her, careful not move them from Prim – she had this little quirk of needing to clutch her blankets when she slept close to her chest, no matter how hot and sticky the temperature got. She moved to the fan, exhaustion slowing her movements, and turned the fan close to the window, hoping to bring in some of the chill from outside.

She didn't know what time it was, but it didn't seem like it was too late. She had heard Haymitch's steps outside her room not too long ago, lethargically padding down the ever-creaking halls. Before, Haymitch was something short of a night owl; he spent most of his nights in his study, steadily nursing his endless supply of bottles full of foul smelling alcohol under the pretense of working on his latest novel, but now he had had actually formed some sort of routine – at least, according to Prim – and was at least _trying_ to conform to more normal habits.

But from the way her eyes stung with sleep that was clearly too far out of reach, Katniss knew she wasn't exactly in the position to judge her uncle, anyway.

She trudged down the hallway, her stomach tossing uncomfortably inside her. She didn't know how much longer she could stand the painful buzzing of the electric shocks; it was only logical to her that the more distance she put between the boy with the bright blue eyes and the unfailing smiles, the less painful the zips from the shocks would get. She had been wrong.

She poured herself a glass of milk, quietly sifting through the drawers in search of something sweet. Spending the summer with practically her own personal baker hadn't gone over well for her sweet tooth, her appetite now growing for sweets by the day. She pulled out a blue plastic box, sliding two cookies from the flimsy tray before wrapping them in a napkin.

Cookies and milk in hand, she walked out to the glass sliding doors, choosing the deck over the front porch. There were too many memories linked to the rusting red porch, too many conversations she didn't want to think about.

She settled herself on a plastic chair, the plastic material sinking as she settled herself into it before she lifted her legs, perching them on the small glass table in front of her. The air was cooler outside, much cooler than in the house and now, she regretted leaving her sweatshirt behind.

She took a sip of her milk, hoping that the white liquid would do something to settle her jumbled stomach, before dunking her cookie into it, effectively soaking her fingers. The sound of her own crunching filled her ears, dulling the sound of the waves crashing, the splashes loud as they violently hit the shore.

She stayed quiet for a moment, inhaling the salty air until she heard a cough; a red-faced Peeta hovered towards the side of the porch, a safe five feet away from her.

His blonde hair looked almost white under the light of the moon, the way it always did at night. His irises looked a darker shade of blue, not quite their bright selves but two dark circles instead. His fingers clutched tightly to a pale-white block in his hands, a small plastic bag wrapped around his other wrist.

"Hey," he whispered, his voice shy, questioning.

"Hi," she replied, not quite meeting her eyes. She gulped her milk, her stomach suddenly unbearably uneasy. "What are you still doing up?"

He shrugged, his shoulders lifting under the loose sweatshirt he wore before pointing nodding his head towards the sky. "Full moon. It caught my attention when I was walking home from the diner. I'd been waiting until the sky cleared up a bit so that I could paint it."

He hesitated for a moment, still lingering just besides the wooden steps of the deck. "Erm, do you -," he shuffled his feet, his hands too full to rub his neck. "Do you mind if I paint here?"

He nodded towards the empty chair next to her, his hair flopping into his eyes.

She shook her head, pulling her legs under her. She felt her skin prickle with goose bumps – whether they came from the chilling wind, or the presence of the boy in front of her, she couldn't really say.

Wordlessly, he set the canvas on the table in front of them, taking his supplies out of his bag. It was methodical, the way he always set up station when he was about to paint; first, he set up the easel, hanging the canvas from it before opening each canister of paint, setting the lids behind tin can. He pulled out a plastic tray, pouring bits of each color that he wanted into it, leaving some spots empty for when he wanted to mix the colors to find just the perfect shade of whatever it was he was looking for. Tonight, he just spilled four colors onto the metal tray – black, white, blue and a soft brown.

He made an effort to smile at her, the upward turn of his lips somehow weak, unlike him.

He turned, walking back into the house without a word, returning moments later with another tin can; water splashing as he noisily trudged out onto the wooden deck. Setting the tin can on the glass table, he peeled off his sweatshirt revealing a plain white shirt.

He held out his sweatshirt to her, "Here."

She shook her head, startled. She didn't need his sweatshirt. She didn't _need_ anything from him.

He frowned, his eyes hardening slightly. "Katniss, take it. It's cold."

"I'm fine," she said, leveling her voice.

He shook his head, unbelieving. "You have goose bumps on your arms," he said, his eyes flicking towards her pale, shivering arms. "Take it."

She hesitated. She didn't _need_ the sweatshirt. She didn't. But maybe, she realized, she was better off with the jacket than she was without.

She accepted it, pulling it down on her body as he heaved a sigh before lowering himself on to the plastic chair sitting parallel to her.

He made no effort to pick up a brush, smear colors on to the cotton canvas, like she had expected him to, like she had seen him do so many times before. He just stared at the sky, his eyes squinting every once in a while before he turned to her, his expression unreadable.

"Truth?"

She wanted to say no. She wanted to say no, and walk back into the house, hide under the covers, hide from all these feelings she couldn't define and stomach aches she couldn't seem to cure. She _wanted _to.

But she shrugged instead, the gesture falsely nonchalant. "Sure."

His uncharacteristically dull, dark orbs brightened infinitesimally, but he remained silent.

"Did I do something wrong?" He asked a moment later, his voice low, gruff. "I mean – last night, should I – didn't you –" he paused, his speech unusually flustered, his cheeks tinting light pink again.

"Did I do something wrong last night?" He repeated, his voice even softer this time. Sadder.

Did _he_ do something? Did he directly _do_ something? She didn't know.

He had kissed her. But _she_ had kissed him back. She had given into the tangled web of feelings she felt in the core of her gut, she had yielded to the tingles, the vibrations, the shocks that she felt when she was around him. _She _had made a mistake. This - him – it wasn't what she wanted; she couldn't afford to want it.

She shook her head, her heart racing uncomfortably as his frown deepened, his eyes drooping.

"I made a mistake – last night, it shouldn't have happened."

Her voice came out much more hushed than she'd anticipated, her voice barely audible next to the crashing of the waves.

Peeta nodded, his lips thinning into a straight line. His eyes dropped to the ground, focusing on a plank of wood.

A long beat of silence later he asked, "Why?"

Her eyes snapped to his, startled by the question.

Why? _Why?_

Because away from here, away from Cedar Point, back at home where she was headed in just two weeks, Katniss Everdeen was a girl of many responsibilities – too many already wedged on her list to add new ones. Between playing the role of both a mother and a father to her little sister, working multiple jobs, and going to school, she barely had the time to see the one friend she had managed to make over the years; she simply couldn't add anyone else to the set equation that was her life.

Because in this world of uncertainty – in this world where people just upped and left you - she couldn't continue to feel for someone the way she was beginning to feel for him. She couldn't allow herself to love more people, to _need_ more people than she already did. Her sister was enough.

Because although she didn't know what she was feeling, or what to do with those feelings, she knew the potential this had. She knew that she was setting herself up for hurt, for pain.

Because, like Annie said, sometimes love just wasn't enough.

Because in just a little over ten days, Katniss would return to her home an hour and a half away from here, and she would forget about him and he would forget about her.

And that, she hoped, would be that.

She shrugged, her breathing shallow, her mouth puckered tightly. She knew _why_ – each reason sticking firmly in her mind, irrationally prickling her eyes - she just didn't know how to put all that into words that would make sense.

So she didn't. She lifted herself from her chair, her eyes starting at anything but Peeta's eyes – the pain palpable in his beautiful, blue eyes.

She rubbed a hand tiredly over her face, and Peeta picked at his paint brushes, seemingly resigned to the fact that he wasn't getting an answer. Not tonight.

She whispered a good night, not waiting for a reply before she darted back into the house, her feet carrying her swiftly into her room, into her bed, under the protective layer of the covers. The room had dropped a few degrees in temperature, and she clutched the sweatshirt closer to her before realizing just what it was that she was holding on to.

Peeta's sweatshirt; she'd forgotten to give it back.

She gingerly lifted her arm to her face, and felt her eyes sting again, prickling uncomfortably.

She sniffled, drained from the emotions of the day before shutting her eyes, letting herself drown in the scent of the sweatshirt – sweet, warm, musky and _Peeta – _just for tonight.

Xx

Mondays weren't usually too fast-paced at the diner, just a few customers meandering through during the lunch hour, and another small group following later for dinner. But today was exceptionally slow, the rain and thunderstorm outside keeping people at bay in the safety of their own homes.

She pulled Gale's sweatshirt over her head – she'd left Peeta's on the kitchen counter, hoping he would see it there – and slipped out through the back door of the diner, telling Annie that she was taking her break. The rain fell in sheets around in front of her, and she back up against the cold cement of the diner, under the small panel that kept her out of the rain's reach.

She slumped to the floor, rocking on her heels, and pulled out her cell phone. Flipping it over, she padded her thumbs over the button, dialing one of the few numbers she knew by heart.

A sigh of relief escaped her lungs as his voice came on the other line.

"Catnip?" Gale said loudly into the phone; his voice coated in both excitement and curiosity.

She smiled, though her voice came out shallow. "Hey, Gale."

He was silent for a moment, just the sound of his movements audible as he shifted around, loud noises in the background fading in and out.

His tone dropped, his voice matching hers. "Is everything okay, Katniss? Are you okay?"

"Yeah …" she nodded her head, "I'm just –"

"Having a bad day?" He interrupted her, filling in the rest. He'd dealt with a handful of her bad days in the past; he knew one was coming before she even did, sometimes.

She sighed, wishing her best friend, her _only_ friend was here sitting by her side. On days like these, he was the only one who could crack a smile out of her, let alone a laugh.

She heard a clink in the background, the sounds of a jostling crowd piquing her interest.

"Where are you?"

His voice was sheepish on the other end, bashful. "I'm at a restaurant."

She snorted. "Are you on a date, Gale?"

"Well … yeah, actually." He chuckled, and she could almost imagine him shifting his eyes awkwardly around the room, his fingers itching at the small stubble that was always prominent on his face.

"Oh, Gale." She scolded him; regardless of the fact that it was probably a relatively stupid, large-breasted bimbo waiting for him somewhere inside the restaurant, Katniss couldn't help but feel bad. "Go back to your date, I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"No, it's alright." He argued, "It doesn't really matter."

She shook her head. "No, really, Gale. I should be getting back to work anyway. I'll talk to you later."

He sighed. He couldn't argue against her having to leave. "Alright but I'll call you back later tonight, okay?"

Saying goodbye, she hung up the phone and stood from her crouch, her knees aching in protest. She turned on her heel, and turned back towards the restaurant.

The pungent odor of fried foods ambushed her nostrils, and today, she wasn't sure how much longer she'd be able to deal with it.

She groaned, she was sure fairly loudly when she noticed Johanna stomping her way towards her, her eyes narrowed into small slits. She looked angry, and Katniss was sure she was just about to get a lecture on taking a breaking when she wasn't supposed to, or not working fast or something equally stupid.

But when she opened her mouth, her lips an angry thin line, her voice thick with venom, Katniss was floored. "What did you do to Peeta?"

Katniss opened her mouth to speak, but shut it again – who the hell was Johanna, anyway, barging in here, yelling at her?

Johanna stepped closer to her, her nose level with Katniss', and Katniss vaguely noticed Annie's small body scurrying in the background, making an effort to pull Johanna back.

"What." Johanna said again, her words curt and clipped. "Did you do to him?

"Why is he refusing to come into work today and why did he look like a dog kicked to the curb when I went to see him?"

Katniss gulped, her heart thumping too loudly, too uncomfortably in her ears again.

A second later, she heard a loud, screeching voice snap, and was surprised to find it belonged to Annie. "Johanna, leave her alone."

She tugged at the other dark-hair girls hand, pulling her away from Katniss. "Drop it, Jo," she repeated.

Johanna shrugged her off, turning back to Katniss again, her eyes still hard. "You better stay out of my way today."

* * *

"Wanna talk about it?"

Katniss looked up from the condiment bottle she held in her fingers to Annie; a gentle smile stretched across her lips.

When Katniss didn't answer, the older girl slumped into the chair next to her, grabbing a yellow mustard bottle.

"I'm sorry for Johanna – this morning, she was out of line. It's not her place to fight Peeta's battles for her." She twisted the cap, her eyes raking over Katniss' lightly. "She's just really protective when it comes to the people she loves."

Katniss nodded; she couldn't begrudge Johanna for that. They were too similar in too many ways.

She pulled at another bottle, the soft hum of the vacuum buzzing in the back where Johanna was starting to clean up.

A silent moment later, Annie looked up, her voice soft. "You _can_ talk to me about it if you want, Katniss. We're friends, and contrary to what you probably think, I'm a good listener." She smirked softly, her eyes playful.

And that's when realized, Gale wasn't her only friend—somehow, in a summer that she thought would be wasted, would be torturous, she had managed to open up to new people, she had allowed herself to trust other people. She had been able to find friends in Annie, and in Peeta, and sometimes, when she felt like it, even in Johanna.

And the words tumbled out of her; not everything, she wasn't able to explain just everything yet – about her parents, and about her life and her doubts and disbeliefs - but enough for Annie to understand.

Annie's eyes glowed. "I knew he liked you – I knew it. He just, he looked at you differently. Not the way he looked at Delly or Johanna or anyone else."

Katniss shook her head, "It doesn't matter. It wouldn't work out anyway."

Annie's eyes bored into hers, the condiment bottles abandoned on the wooden table. "Why not, Katniss?"

"Because," Katniss sputtered, "I'm going home in two weeks and my life at home, it isn't anything as simple as my summer here as been. We live far away from each other and I don't have the time, and I don't—I don't know if I can."

Her voice barely came above a whisper and Annie's fingers reached out for her own, stilling her as she tried with vicious effort to twist the cap on the plastic bottle.

"Katniss, if you like him, you can overcome that. You can overcome _anything_. The distance won't even matter, or the time."

"But it didn't—" she paused, not knowing how to phrase what she wanted to say. It didn't work out for Finnick and her, they weren't able to overcome everything.

"But it didn't work out for Finnick and me?" She offered, and Katniss nodded, wondering if bringing him up would reduce the girl to tears. To her surprise, it didn't.

"That's because Finnick he wasn't – he wasn't Peeta, Katniss. Peeta is special, he is _so _special. He's strong, and he's kind, and he loves so passionately that he—"

"I thought you said love wasn't always enough." Katniss interrupted, Annie's words from the day before echoing loudly in her ears.

"Yeah. But sometimes, love is also just the thing you need. The thing you're missing."

* * *

Annie's words still echoing loudly in her head, Katniss walked around the side of the diner, making her way to the boardwalk. She'd passed on the burger and fries for tonight; her appetite had gone missing throughout the day.

Two days ago, she was so sure what she was doing, what she was thinking was right – it was so _right_. Until it just wasn't anymore.

And then yesterday, this morning, she was so sure what she had done, what she had thought was so right …

Until now. Now, she wasn't sure about anything.

Her footsteps were quiet as she walked across the bridge; the only light illuminating the seemingly ancient wooden form was the moon light – not as big as the night before, but still almost whole.

She turned at the intersection, and before long, she was standing at her door, the rusting red deck wrapping around the house before her. She cautiously turned her head towards the side of the house, the side where she'd spent far too much time lately, and noticed the light spilling out from the window of the garage onto the grass, dancing in small patterns. Peeta was home.

She didn't know if she felt relief at that, or if she felt worse at the thought. She needed to talk to him again; she_ wanted_ to talk to him again. But she couldn't, not until she figured out just how she felt.

She opened the door quietly, hoping to avoid Haymitch's sober grumpy shouts and Prim's chipper questions and made a move to slide into the hallway and into her room.

But of course, she had no such luck.

Prim jumped in front of her as soon as Katniss attempted to pass the living room unnoticed. Haymitch sprawled on the couch behind her, flipping through channels.

"Katniss!" she shouted, and Katniss had to make an effort to keep her hands at her sides and not up to her ears. Her head was throbbing. Prim's expression fell as she took in Katniss; her baby sister knew the things she felt before she even did.

Prim tugged at her hand, her eyes suddenly softer, less excited. "Are you feeling okay?"

Katniss nodded, and Prim's eyes just narrowed perceptively as she did so.

"Come watch TV with us," She said, doe-eyed and soft.

Katniss was about to refuse, fake an illness, though it wouldn't be too much of a stretch. She honestly was beginning to feel a little sick.

"Please?"

And Katniss was sold. She nodded, gingerly positioning herself on the far end of the couch, opposite from Haymitch. Prim wedged herself between them and coaxed the remote from Haymitch's fingers.

She flipped the channels until she landed on a movie, and squealed with delight. Forrest Gump – one of the few things Katniss and Prim both enjoyed.

Katniss tucked her legs under her and lifted her arm, wrapping it around Prim's scrawny shoulders. Her baby sister leaned into her, and Katniss noticed her uncle's head beginning to fall to the side as his eyes shut, only to be jolted awake as Prim squealed again, her eyes excitedly shining into Katniss'.

"I forgot!" she said, her hands reaching for a small wooden square that lay on the table in front of them. She flipped it, and revealed a frame, the sides adorned with seashells, the middle blank, missing a picture.

Katniss' heart clenched, the memory of her father sitting at the kitchen table after their trips to beach, gluing Prim's seashells onto frames before sealing a picture of his two girls into the glass tugging at her chest.

"I told Peeta about how dad made these a long time ago and he made one for me." She clutched the frame to her chest, running her fingers over the seashells. "Haymitch said he'll take the picture for us tomorrow."

She told Prim it was sweet, the compliment genuine, and turned her attention back to the movie, sighing inwardly; this only confused her muddled mind even more.

She wanted to not think about Peeta, not focus on the way her inside squirmed at just the thought of him, the way her heart pounded in her chest as she recalled the look on his face the night before. She wanted to believe in Annie – she almost _had_ believed Annie before. But now, she couldn't bear to. She thought of her mother, of Haymitch, both of them beaten down, both of them damaged beyond repair because they had trusted, and they had loved, and they had been let down in one way or another.

But then she thought of Annie, who had also trusted, who had also loved with all she had, and who had also been let down. But who had picked herself up again. Who hadn't stopped believing in love, even if it was what had caused her so much anguish. Who hadn't been broken beyond repair.

And she didn't know where to go, which turn to take as she approached a divergent path.

She heard the glass door on her right slide, followed by loud, familiar footsteps that broke her out of her reverie. And there Peeta stood, looking as disheveled as she felt, his fingers thumbing circles over his neck.

Haymitch's eyes flew open, and he squinted at the blonde boy.

"I just set the garbage out to the curb for tomorrow morning, and I wanted to make sure I got the garbage from the kitchen." He said, his eyes focusing on just Haymitch.

Haymitch stood from the couch, his hand rubbing his stomach uneasily as he belched loudly.

Prim giggled, and Peeta's eyes flicked to her momentarily, his expression softening, a smile creeping on his face.

"I did it already – the garbage, I mean."

Peeta's blue eyes widened as he studied Haymitch's face, his expression somewhere between curiosity and pride.

Haymitch grumbled something along the lines of not getting his panties in a bunch about it, and Peeta chuckled lowly, his fingers clasping Haymitch's shoulders for a moment before her uncle unsteadily walked across the living room and into his room, his fists rubbing across his eyes roughly.

"Okay, then. I guess I'll go," he said, his eyes resting fondly on her little sister. "Good night."

He turned around and Katniss felt the frown on her face deepening as she realized that Peeta hadn't even bothered to meet her eyes, let alone say a word to her.

Prim stood, her body darting towards Peeta's quickly, her fingers tugging at his. "Peeta! Come watch Forrest Gump with us!"

Katniss watched as his mouth opened, probably to decline politely, before it shut again, and Katniss was sure Prim had pulled out her wide, doe-eyes on him, as well.

He sighed, relenting. "Okay."

He made a move to sit on the small, broken-looking ottoman that sat in the far corner of the room, but Prim kept her firm grasp on him, pulling him to wear their uncle had been sitting only moments ago.

Katniss watched as he shifted to the edge of the sofa, itching to distance himself from her despite Prim's small body that served as a buffer between the two. Prim stretched herself back into her former position, this time lounging more lazily across the sofa, her head in Katniss' lap, her feet resting near Peeta's knees.

Prim erupted into giggles as Peeta tickled her feet, and just above the high pitched squeals emitting from her little sister, Katniss could hear Forrest, in his sweet southern voice, telling her just the advice she needed to hear in that moment.

"_My Mama always said you've got to put the past behind you before you can move on."_

* * *

_a/n: i'm sorry, i'm sorry, don't kill me for the lack of a happy ending! but guys, it's katniss! what else would we expect? :p and also sorry for the slight delay - my little niece hasn't been feeling too well lately and i've been spending more time with her and less time writing :(_

_so now, there's just one more chapter to go. and then maybe an epilogue to follow, not sure? let me know what you guys think about that!_

_thank you for reading, and i hope you all enjoyed it! reviews, as always, keep me going and are so very appreciated! _


	10. Chapter 10

a/n: so so sorry for the long wait! but, finally, here it is! the last _actual _chapter. really hope you guys like it!

* * *

"_You've got to put the past behind you before you can move on." _The words repeated themselves in Katniss' head, a never-ending song humming loudly in her ears as she tossed and turned in her bed, her teeth gnawing vehemently on her lower lip.

Her past had not much to do directly with her; she had never allowed for it to happen, hadn't even gotten close enough with anyone for that to happen. The only person she _could_ have gotten that close with was Gale, but just the thought of his lips hovering over hers, his calloused, rough hands holding hers was laughable to her. He was like her brother, and nothing more.

But she had seen her mother. She had seen her mother bursting from the seams with love, and she had seen her mother go dry, hollow without love. She had also seen her uncle lose himself to the poisons of alcohol because of love. And she didn't trust anyone, _anyone_ to not leave her feeling like that. Like a shell of a person, the ghost of who she used to be. She couldn't depend on others – not for herself, and not for her sister.

But she _did_ trust Peeta, and that's what confused her the most. She had lived a large part of her life being mostly self-reliant, making friends only when necessary, giving no thought to _others_ opinions or feelings. _This_, Peeta, this was all so painfully new to her and she didn't know where to go from here.

That was the thing about allowing others in, about trusting them – it was a battle for her, and she had to choose just how much she was willing to lose. Would she fall back on what she knew and what was comfortable, or would she step forward into something new and maybe even dangerous? She didn't know. She didn't know.

She tossed onto her side, irritated by herself and her thoughts, and let her fingers tug at the hair-tie that hung loosely at the tip of her braid, unceremoniously weaving her hand through the twist, letting her hair fall around her pillow in a halo.

"Katniss!" Prim snapped, her usually sweet voiced guised in annoyance. "I can't sleep with you moving every five seconds."

Katniss ran a hand through her hair and turned to her little sister. Light from the moon outside their window crept in through the corners of their blinds, casting a shadow on Prim's face. Her blonde hair looked whiter, her bright blue eyes a shade darker.

"I'm sorry, little bunny, I didn't mean to wake you."

Prim lifted a shoulder, shrugging. "I was already awake."

She bit her lips for a second, her eyes casting down towards the foot of the bed before she looked back up to Katniss, her eyes careful. Her voice was soft when she spoke, gentle in the way Katniss had seen her speak to their mother. "What are you thinking about?"

Katniss bit her lip harder, not knowing how to answer her baby sister, not knowing how to explain her situation without sounding totally juvenile or completely pathetic.

"Is it about Peeta?" Prim asked a moment of still silence later in a cautious tone, as if she knew she was treading risky territory. "He was being kinda weird tonight, when we were watching the movie …"

Katniss exhaled loudly, feeling too weird about all of this to talk to her little sister, of all people, about this. But she also had no one else. At least not right now. And she already knew how Annie felt. And Johanna, for that matter. Though she wasn't sure how _she_ felt about the latter.

She looked to Prim; innocent and young, but growing, evolving into a mature young lady – one who knew how to let people in, how to love, and how to live far better than she did already. And the words tumbled out. "I guess. Kinda. Yes"

Prim was excited about her older sister's revelations – Katniss could see it in her eyes – but also already knowing, somehow.

"He likes you …" Prim said, lifting herself on her right shoulder, a small smile playing on her lips. "At least I'm pretty sure he does…"

Katniss felt her fingers crawl up her face, effectively hiding her eyes from Prim's intense gaze. But she nodded infinitesimally and Katniss could almost _feel _Prim's smile growing.

"Do you like him?" Prim asked, her voice bubbling with excitement and Katniss had to wonder if her sister already knew the answer – the answer that Katniss still couldn't decide, still couldn't admit.

She shrugged her shoulders and she felt Prim's head fall closer to hers, her blonde hair tickling Katniss' shoulders. Prim was silent for a moment, waiting for her sister to say something, anything. But Katniss didn't know. There weren't facts for her to sift through, just _feelings_ and she just didn't know what to do with them.

But there were a few facts, and she had to hold on to them with all she had if she wanted to understand her own self.

She had told Peeta more about her life, had opened up to him more than she had with anyone in a long time. That was a fact.

She trusted him. She trusted him with herself, and she trusted him with her family. That was a fact.

"We kissed." That was a fact.

Katniss lifted her fingers from her eyes, meeting with Prim's smile.

"So you _do_ like him?" Prim asked, her eyes bright and excited, her smile stretching wide across her face.

Katniss shook her head, and then she froze, her mind confused, her head almost nodding … almost.

"If you didn't like, why would you kiss him?" Prim asked in a voice too sweet, too innocent and Katniss narrowed her eyes at her baby sister.

"I … I don't know if I like him." Katniss said a beat later. "I trust him. And he's my friend but I don't … I don't know."

Prim sighed, her eyes suddenly weary as she scanned Katniss' face. "Can I – would you mind if I told you something? You can't get mad at me…"

Katniss nodded, her eyebrow arching.

"I think that you're strong, Katniss. You're the strongest person I know, and I love you for it and I admire you for it but sometimes, I think that your strength is also kind of your weakness …" Prim said, tentatively looking up to her sister, trying to gauge Katniss' reaction.

Katniss' face remained impassive.

"You just – you're independent and responsible and you take care of me and Mom, and you always make me feel better when I'm down and I know that I can always rely on you if I need something and … and you're always being the grown-up, you know? I think that _you _need someone who can make _you_ feel better when you're sad and you need someone _you_ can rely on."

Prim paused, wrapping her fingers around Katniss'. "You don't always have to be so strong, or so grown-up. You can let your guard down sometimes. You should get to be seventeen."

And somehow, that was all Katniss needed to hear. She could feel the confusion, the cloudiness in her mind beginning to clear away.

Prim's sweet, blue eyes peered up at Katniss, and Katniss could feel a smile tugging at her lips, a swelling of pride in her chest as she realized just how wonderful, how perfect her baby sister was turning out to be.

"Are you mad?" Prim asked and Katniss let her smile show, squeezing her sister's fingers with hers.

"Of course not, little bunny," she said, reaching down to plant a kiss on Prim's forehead.

Prim smiled widely, her teeth glowing white in the darkness that surrounded them. "Just for the record, I think you like Peeta. Even if you don't believe it yourself," she said, pulling her sheets up to her chin before yawning loudly, her eyelids drooping.

But that was the thing – Katniss _had_ to believe in it, in him. Because every so often, someone amazing comes into your life and against your better judgment, against everything you know, you _have_ to believe and you have to trust them and you have to let them in.

And you have to start having hoping, again.

* * *

It was now or never, Katniss knew that much. But between the pacing outside of the small patch of grass that led to Peeta's room, and holding her breath and scouring the sky over and over for a shooting star, a quick last wish, Katniss was starting to feel like, maybe, '_later_' was her answer.

It didn't have to be now, and it didn't have to be never. It could be later, when she was more prepared, when it wasn't three in the morning, when she didn't feel delirious from exhaustion.

She heard a door creak open and turned slowly, coming face to face with a tired looking Peeta, brush locked in two of his fingers, a smudge of yellow paint on his left cheek.

"Now," she muttered, patting her sweating palms on the back of her jeans. "Now."

Peeta's eyebrow corked at her, his expression confused.

She knew she was to blame for their new-found air awkwardness that hung thickly between them, for the exasperation clearly painted on his face, for the hint of hurt palpable his eyes. He wasn't smiling, and she knew she had to speak. She had to do it _now_.

"I … I wanted to talk to you, for a second?" Her voice wavered, her brain panicked and she suddenly feared that he would reject right here, not even give it a second thought.

He nodded tersely, his eyes still wary but not uninviting. He moved aside, allowing her entrance into his room.

She walked in quietly, her stomach in knots, her lip caught in between her teeth again. Katniss was a girl who boasted herself for her fearlessness, her bravery, but in this second, she couldn't be more afraid and she hated it.

He lowered himself onto his couch, and she followed suit. She sat closer to the edge, her body keeping her at a distance from him on instinct.

His eyes, a wonderful shade of blue matching his bright t-shirt, scanned her face.

He frowned, his eyes squinting narrowly, worried. "Are you okay?"

She expected his voice to sound hateful, cold, angry. But it wasn't. It was sweet. It was warm. It was _Peeta. _And for some reason, that made her feel infinitely better and worse at the same time.

She nodded, her mouth puckering, preparing to say something – _anything _– but her brain failed her, words suddenly disappearing altogether.

He cocked his head to the side and smiled at her softly, his lips not stretching as widely across his face as she was used to seeing. "Do you want some hot chocolate?"

She nodded again, leaning back into the sofa as he stood and padded across the room, making his way to the small shelf that was lined with dishes. Not a single one of them matched, she noticed it each time she came down here, but that was what made this room so his. The different colors, the different patterns, the different everything.

He took careful steps towards her a few minutes later, his fingers clutching tightly to two mugs of steaming, creamy hot chocolate and took his place next to her again.

She looked at him, and forced her teeth to release their grip on her lip.

"Peeta …" she sighed, "I wanted—I want to…"

"_What_ do you need, Katniss?" His voice still wasn't angry or mean. Just tired, and she couldn't find it in herself to begrudge him for that.

She didn't know what she needed, and for that, she wanted to go bang her head against a wall until she found some semblance of an answer. All she knew was what she _didn't _want.

"I don't want to depend on anyone else, for _anything_." Least of all her well-being and happiness. "I don't want to feel _too_ much. I'm scared of feeling too much."

And the last one bore down on her most heavily, suffocating most of her thoughts. "I don't want to become my mother."

Peeta didn't know enough about this, about her mother, but she would tell him one day. Still, his face held an understanding expression that Katniss couldn't fathom. How could he understand her when she couldn't bear to understand herself?"

"I want you to be patient with me. I need you to go slow with this … with us. Because—"

She paused, feeling Peeta's pinky wrap around hers. She saw him nod from the corner of her eye, encouraging her to continue, but she couldn't quite look at him just yet.

"…Because I've never done anything like this before. I've had exactly one friend my entire life, and I've never even actually kissed a guy before and I never trust people or even really talk to them and… you make me feel different. You make me feel like I'm _me_, without all the tragedy and all the sadness and all the crap…and I like that. I… I like _you_ but – but you'll have to patient. I mean, _if _you, if you want. If you still like me. Because I've never-" she raised her shoulders hopelessly, exhaling finally, out of words and out of breath. She didn't even know what she said, didn't even know if it made sense. But it didn't matter now; it was out there. It was all out there.

And Peeta was looking at her weirdly, his eyes squinting, his head tilting as he pushed his cup down onto the table in front of them before taking hers from her grasp, setting it down next to his.

"Wha—"

His finger, soft and calloused all at once, cupped her face, his thumb circling her cheek. His voice was soft, affectionate, and made her heart race uncomfortably fast in her chest. "I can be patient, Katniss. You just had to tell me that."

Her breathe hitched; her shoulders rose and then fell.

He shook his head at her, his smile warming her insides, the tingly feeling in her fingertips and her toes driving her crazy as he inched his face closer to her. Her fingers wrapped tightly around his and his eyes looked at her, asking for permission. Her skin felt prickly, ready to explode as she dipped her face closer, pressing her lips against his, warm and chapped and perfect.

There was no _never_. There was no _later_.

It was now. _It had to be now._

* * *

Prim groaned, the sound loud and exaggerated, as she padded into the kitchen in her flip flops and bathing suit, a towel wrapped around her wet torso, with a similarly dressed Rue in tow.

Her face scrunched up as she eyed the muffins that sat on the counter. Her small legs climbed onto the stool, and she looked to Peeta who stood by the oven, mitts adorning his hands as he pulled the metal door down, pulling out a tray of something else.

"Strawberry muffins, _again?_"

He laughed, shrugging his shoulders. "Sorry Prim, your sister made me." He looked to Katniss, throwing a crooked, warm smile at her, a glint in his bright eyes.

"But don't worry," he said, turning his attention back to Prim. "I made you and Rue cheesy buns."

Peeta pulled out the steel tray, setting it on the countertop before pulling his mitts off and walking back around the small kitchen island, taking his spot next to Katniss.

Katniss watched as Prim's pupils brightened, both her and Rue's eyes hungrily staring at the warm, soft buns in front of them.

Katniss opened her mouth to warn Prim and Rue not to touch them until the buns had cooled down, but Peeta beat her to it.

"Why don't you girls go shower, and by the time you're done, they'll be cool enough for you to eat?"

The younger girls nodded in agreement, heaving their tired bodies off of the metal stools, leaving a trail of sand as they walked trudged along the hallway, into Prim and Katniss' room.

As soon as the girls were out of sight, Katniss felt Peeta's fingers slip into hers, his thumb working slow circles over her palm. He knew she wasn't ready yet, not comfortable enough to hold his hand in front of her sister, or their friends, and he didn't push it. He was patient with her, just like he had promised he would be.

But she _did_ feel comfortable, and that was the weird thing. Not with outwardly shown displays of their affection – she wasn't sure she'd ever be comfortable with that. But she was comfortable _with_ him; she was comfortable _around_ him. His hands didn't feel foreign in hers; they felt _right_. And his lips, when they hovered over hers, pressing softly, gently against hers didn't feel strange or unwanted. They felt perfect, they felt warm, they felt natural.

He smiled at her, pulling the tray of cheesy buns closer to them. "Do you wanna try these? They're pretty good…"

Katniss shook her head, her fingers reaching for a strawberry muffin instead. "I think I'll stick to these … I think I've taken enough risks in the past few days."

Peeta chuckled, shaking his head at her. He picked up a small bun, tearing a piece off and tossing it into his mouth. "Well, I think that you should broaden your pastry horizons. And I also think that sometimes, it's good to take a risk or two."

She arched an eyebrow at him, and he tugged the bottom of her braid with his free hand, offering her the cheese bun with his other. She pulled his wrist closer, biting off a piece of the bread in his fingers.

Her stomach swirled with delicious delight. The sour, tangy taste of the cheese exploded in her mouth, the buttery flakes of bread melting on her tongue.

Peeta looked at her expectantly, waiting to hear her response.

She smiled slyly, sliding the muffin in her fingers back onto its plate discreetly. She plucked the rest of the bun from his fingers, pushing it into her mouth and he smiled at her knowingly.

"You know, it's okay to tell me that I'm right every once in a while," he joked, his fingers dancing with hers, his voice playful. And in that moment, staring into his bright, earnest eyes and his warm, happy, hopeful smile, she couldn't think of a single reason why she didn't put all her faith in him in the first place.

She leaned forward, not knowing how to explain just how she felt with words, and closed her lips over his. Her fingers slid to his neck, toying with the small, rough blonde hairs at the nape of his neck. She felt him smile into her lips as he hooked his leg around her stool, somehow bringing his body even closer to hers. His hands still around her back, absently tracing patterns with his fingers, and she lost herself in him until she heard a loud, grouchy, too-familiar grunt. She pulled away from Peeta, her fingers automatically wiping her plump lips, lamely attempting to hide the evidence of what her uncle had clearly just seen from him, but she kept her fingers in his.

He didn't look shocked or caught off guard; instead, he looked mostly amused if anything and Katniss had to wonder if, like Prim, he had already known before she had.

She watched in amazement as Haymitch walked passed his alcohol cabinet, going straight to the fridge, and pulled out a carton of apple juice, filling a cup to the brim before sharing a look she couldn't quite decipher with Peeta. Haymitch's eyes lingered on their interlocked fingers and Katniss looked up to find Peeta smiling unabashedly at her uncle.

When she heard the door to Haymitch's study click, she turned back to Peeta, her eyes puzzled, her mind still focused on the older man's choice of drink. "Haymitch's been drinking a lot less…"

Peeta smiled widely, his eyes beaming with pride, though Katniss didn't know who it was directed towards. "Actually, Haymitch hasn't tasted alcohol in two weeks."

_Oh._ How had she not noticed that?

"Why?" she sputtered, "I mean … how?"

"Prim, I guess." Peeta shrugged, his fingers itching the corner of his face.

"I've been trying to get him to quit forever now, but I think Prim was the push he needed. You can't really look into those blue eyes of hers and say 'no.'" He chuckled, "She can pretty much convince anyone to do anything."

Katniss smiled. She was starting to become acclimated to the feeling herself.

"I just hope he keeps its up once you guys are gone," he said, the tips of his lips turning down in a frown.

She didn't want to think about that, at least not yet. Not what would happen to her uncle, exactly. But being gone, not being here in Cedar Point, close to Peeta and Annie and Johanna, living with a mother who wasn't really ever there again. The only thing she truly had to look forward to was being able to see Gale again. She'd missed her best friend.

"Truth or dare?" She asked, distracting both herself and him and he smiled at her, his eyes crinkling slightly.

He pretended to think about it for a beat before, his eyes sparkling mischievously. "Dare."

She frowned; this was new. She hadn't even thought of a dare. "Dare?"

"Dare."

His fingers idly played with hers as she thought about her dare. "I dare you to show me your paintings. Of me."

"Katniss …" His voice was weary. They hadn't talked about that again since that night, and she didn't know if it was because it made _him_ uncomfortable or because he thought it would make _her_ uncomfortable. But she still wanted to see them, again. She hadn't been able to really _look_ that night.

"Please?" She made an effort to smile, squeezing his fingers and he relented. She followed behind him as they walked around the house and into his smaller abode. His fingers were hard at work again, prodding the skin around his neck nervously as he walked them towards the corner where the sheath-covered paintings stood. She tugged at his hand, pulling it closer to her and closing her fingers over his and he looked back at her surprised, almost as if he'd forgotten she was there.

She didn't know how to look perfectly understanding the way he always managed to look at her, but she was going to try. She squeezed his hand assuringly, and reached up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek before he pulled off the black cloth, revealing all of the paintings.

There were fewer paintings, this time. Just three. She looked up to him questioningly. He looked distinctly uncomfortable – almost ashamed – as he explained that he'd gotten rid of the rest of them. "I didn't want to freak you out…I just, I couldn't really bear to throw these ones out." He said, gesturing towards the three paintings.

Katniss could feel the tips of her ears turning pink as she recalled her own response the last time he had shown these to her. She had over-reacted. She had made this boy in front of her feel like shit. "I'm sorry."

He shook his head, telling her that she had nothing to be sorry for. After a second of silence, he asked her: "Truth?"

She nodded, and he looked at anything _but_ her as he asked, "What do you really think of my paintings?"

She took another step towards the paintings, her hand still wrapped around his, and he let his other hand fall to her waist, his front pushed against her back.

"I think they're beautiful. They're … perfect, almost." The girl in the pictures didn't look much like her – tragedy laid in her eyes, raw and naked. But she seemed to be at peace with herself too, in a way that Katniss could only hope to one day be. The girl looked strong – not just physically, but emotionally. She looked infinitely stronger than Katniss herself ever felt.

She told Peeta that and he let his face drop to her hair and whispered in her ear, "You just don't see yourself the way I see you."

The words were vaguely familiar, she was pretty sure he'd said them to her before. But she still didn't believe him. She didn't know how to when she didn't feel it herself.

"You see me for much more than I _really _am." And she was afraid that one day, he'd realize it too.

He shook his head against hers, but before he could explain himself, Johanna burst into his room, her face red with panic, her eyes too-wide with worry.

Peeta pulled away from Katniss, not bothering to cover his paintings before he walked towards Johanna. He threw a comforting arm around her as he asked, in that soothing tone of his, what was wrong. Because clearly, from Johanna's fear stricken face and fidgeting fingers, the dark haired girl wasn't here for a social visit.

"Annie's been in the bathroom since last night and I don't know what wrong and I don't know if she's okay and I tried…" She took a large breath, Peeta's hand working up and down her shoulder blades as Katniss crept closer to them, her own expression beginning to mimic Johanna's. "I tried to unlock the door and to kick it down but she's put something in front of it and I can't get in."

She looked at them hopelessly, her eyes wet with unshed tears, and it was in moments like these that Katniss understood why Annie and Peeta put up with Johanna all along. Because she was there for them when it counted. "I don't know what to do."

"Why don't we go try?" Peeta asked, drawing Johanna closer, prying her car keys from her fingers. She nodded, and headed back towards the car.

After a few seconds of coaxing the old Toyota to start, Peeta put it into drive and pulled up into Johanna and Annie's small driveway three short minutes later.

Katniss pulled herself out of the car and walked up the steps leading to the bright red door, this time instilling more fear of what it held inside than the happiness and warmth it often reminded her of. She didn't know what to expect – she thought the state Annie had been in a few days ago, with the tears rolling down her cheeks and sobs hiccupping from her chest, were bad enough to see – she didn't know what could possibly be worse than that.

She contemplated turning back – not only did she not know what to expect, but this wasn't really her place, either. Annie was her friend, sure. Probably even one of the closest ones she'd ever managed to make. But_ she_ wasn't Annie's closest friend, Johanna and Peeta were. And now that she had them here, Katniss wasn't sure if she still belonged.

But then Peeta's hand closed over hers, sweating and hot but encouraging, inviting. And she squeezed his fingers as he led her towards the bathroom.

Johanna sat outside the bathroom, her fingers rapping on the door lightly, her voice soft as she whispered to Annie.

"Please come out, Annie. You haven't eaten or drank anything since last night, _please?_"

Silence.

Peeta knocked on the door next, his fist hitting the door louder than Johanna's had. "Annie, come on. Whatever it is, we'll deal with it together like we always do."

Silence.

They knocked on the door a few more times, their efforts proving fruitless each time. Peeta continued whispering sweet reassurances to Annie, Johanna resorted to frustrated grunts, her fingers running through her hair in a wild mess. And not for the first time, Katniss wished she was better with words, better at expressing what she felt with her tongue and not just her actions. She was good at taking care of people when it came to the basic survival necessities, but she didn't know how to comfort people; she had always left that to her little sister.

Nearly an hour later, Johanna glared at the clock, her face contorted in pain. "I have to go to work soon…" but the tone of her voice indicated that really, she couldn't.

Peeta rubbed her shoulder and stood up, pulling his cell phone from his sweatshirt. "I'll go call Sae and Brick and see if they can cover tonight."

As he walked towards the front of the house, Johanna followed but walked to the sink instead, pouring herself a glass of water from the tap. Katniss turned back to the closed door in front of her, and knocked softly, whispering Annie's name like it was a secret.

"Annie," she took a deep breath, unprepared for what to say until their conversation from a few days ago popped into her head, and suddenly, Katniss had an inkling of what she needed to say. Or at least, what her friend needed to hear. "Remember when you said that sometimes love isn't enough? I believed you. I didn't think that love was enough; I never did. But then you said that sometimes, love is the one thing that you _need_ and you were right. It _was_ the one thing that I needed and it's the one thing that you need. And Annie, you're so lucky that you have that right in front of you. I mean, maybe you don't have the kind of love that your parents share right now, but you _will _have that someday, I know you will. But … but that's not what I'm talking about.

"The love that you need is right here; it's in Peeta and it's in Johanna, and it's in me. And that was the love that _I_ needed. It's the kind of love that's unconditional. It's the kind of love that gives you hope, and can help you overcome anything. It's the love of having someone to lean on when you need it most instead of standing all alone …"

Katniss stopped, embarrassed when she felt a hand on her shoulder and turned back to find Peeta's blue orbs, soft and understanding, staring into her, a small smile playing on his lips. He dropped a kissed onto her temple and turned to the door once again as Johanna dropped herself onto the floor next to them. Katniss' fingers laced with Peeta's, and Johanna's eyes skittered towards them, a satisfied smirk on her face.

"Come on, Annie…" Peeta tried again, and before he could knock again, something in the bathroom sounded loudly, screeching before the door knob clicked and twisted in pregnant movements, almost in slow motion.

Annie pulled the door back, and stared at them, her eyes wary with tears, her arms wrapped around her midsection protectively.

"I'm sorry for making you guys wait…" She started, but Johanna's arms locked themselves around Annie's frame, and the rest of her words faded into the hug. Johanna reluctantly let her go a moment later and Annie began to fidget, her eyes staring straight into the ground. Johanna grasped her hand in her own and asked her what was wrong in a tone so sweet, so soft, that Katniss didn't even know Johanna was capable of.

"I'm pregnant."

The words tumbled out of Annie's mouth, so low Katniss wasn't sure she'd heard them correctly, and hung over them in the air, still.

Johanna looked confused; Peeta looked shocked. They both gasped audibly.

A quick beat later, Johanna's arms were wrapped around Annie's again, and Peeta reached to grab Annie's fingers in his larger hand.

"Oh, Annie." Johanna murmured, "It'll be okay. Everything will be alright. I promise."

A sob rose in Annie's chest, her eyes wide, her head shaking. "It won't… my parents. They'll _kill_ me. And this baby? It won't even really have a dad and …"

"It may take some time but … your parents _will_ accept it, Annie," _Peeta_ whispered to her, "and until then, you won't go it alone. We're all here for you. And we'll be here for the baby."

"Yeah – Peeta and I already had our turns at major meltdowns. It's time we dealt with one of yours. And besides, having us is a hell of a lot better than having that prick as a dad…" Johanna muttered, her tone wry, earning sloppy snort of laughter from both Peeta and Annie, though Annie's giggle didn't quite make it to her eyes.

"But I don't know _anything_ about babies. I don't know how to change a diaper or give them baths or…"

Katniss touched a hand to Annie's shoulder, and the words of wisdom she'd been repeating to herself as a persistent mantra came to use. "You'll learn. Just because this is something new for you, something you never imagined yourself doing - at least, not at this point - doesn't mean that it can't be good or that it _won't_ be."

She felt Peeta's arm wind around her waist, tightening around her middle. She wondered idly if he knew what she meant – if he understood, even just a little, of her fears and her reluctance. His fingers closed around hers, and she knew that he did.

Annie's eyes dropped to their entwined fingers, and the green in her orbs brightened, her lips stretching over her teeth.

For a moment, in typical Annie fashion, her own worries abandoned her as she began to gush about in a spew of 'I knew it's' and 'I'm so happy for you's' and it wasn't until she leaned into hug them both, her small arms encircling both Katniss and Peeta's frames, that she whispered, "Thank you guys. For everything."

"Jo!" Annie wailed a short second later, her nose still sniffling back tears. "C'mere."

Johanna chuckled, "Oh, I'd rather not join in on this love-slash-snot-fest," and attempted to sidestep them but Annie caught her wrist, pulling her in.

Johanna grumbled, sounding eerily similar to Haymitch. "Oh, hell." But she still wrapped her arms around the three, her embrace warm.

And in that moment, Katniss realized that she_ loved_ them. All three of them, in their own way. She loved Peeta for the good he believed in and the hope that he instilled in her. She loved Annie for her bravery, for putting her faith into things blindly, for trusting whole-heartedly. She loved Johanna, even, for the loyalty that she showed in each thing that she did, each witty remark that left her mouth.

In just a few short weeks in a small town far from her home and her problems, Katniss had managed to tackle the one problem that had followed her here. Herself. Her own fears, her own insecurities, her own inabilities.

She found Peeta's hand again in between the mess of bodies clinging to one another and realized, love wasn't just dependence. Love is friendship. Love is trust. Love is freedom.

* * *

a/n: so first, there _is_ an epilogue coming your way! it should be up, hopefully, in a week. second, thank you all **so so so **much for your support! you are all so sweet, and i just don't know how to thank you all enough for constantly encouraging me to write with your reviews/alerts/subs. thank you. third, i hope you guys liked this last chapter! you won't believe how many times i started it, hated it, deleted it and then repeated. and i'm still not completely happy with this but ... what're you gonna do?

as always, don't forget to review and let me know what you thought! and also, thank you for keeping my niece in your well-wishes and prayers. it means a lot to my family!


	11. Epilogue

Katniss felt a finger run down her arm, leaving gooseflesh in its place that had nothing to do with the cold, bitter winter winds that rocked the trees back and forth outside her window. She caught Peeta's finger before it could trail down her arm again, and kissed it, scooting her body back until she was right beside him, feeling the steady beating of his heart against her back. His arm automatically wrapped around her, like holding her close was the most natural thing in the world, and Katniss idly wondered about the time and whether or not her sister was in the room.

When she asked, Peeta rubbed her arm and sniffed at her hair unabashedly before answering her. "It's past one in the afternoon," he said, chuckling, as always, at her ability to sleep well into the afternoon. Peeta never could – he was an early bird. "And I drove Prim over to Rory's when I got here."

Katniss nodded, content. She had been off from school for the past week for winter break, but had spent each day of the week rising to get to work before the sun had even managed to creep up over the horizon. She had the next four days off and she intended to sleep through all, if not most of her mornings.

She waited a few minutes, until the initial grogginess that inevitably found its way to her every morning had passed before turning to Peeta, making a pillow out of his arm before tangling her legs with his, mooching off of his warmth. Somehow, while her toes and fingers stayed perpetually cold, his body always radiated a warmth that she loved.

His eyes were closed, his face still and angelic, but she knew he was awake by the way his hand continuously drew abstract patterns on her back, leaving an odd trail of shivers and warmth in their wake.

Pulling the end of her braid from under her head, she feathered the wisps of hair against his nose, holding back a snort of laughter when his face contorted in an expression halfway between annoyance and laughter. He pulled her braid free from her fingers as she leaned down to kiss him, and tugged at the hair-tie, weaving his fingers through the twist until her dark hair fell in a messy halo around him. Peeta always had this thing about seeing her hairs sans her signature braid, but she rarely let him – it had been a while since she'd last seen him, at least three weeks, and she didn't quite feel like stopping him this time.

She leaned into him further as his fingers worked softly across her scalp, massaging her.

"How was orientation?" she asked a few minutes later, her eyes drooping with sleep again, his warm touch making her lazy.

Just as Katniss had known he would, Peeta had received his acceptance letter from The Bern Institute of Art late in October, and was set to start attending in just a few short weeks.

Peeta's small smile broadened. "It went really well! It's amazing there – the classes and the professors are all amazing. But, I still think my favorite part is getting to be just twenty minutes from you."

Katniss smiled. She used to feel guilty when Peeta said sweet, endearing things like that to her – not because she didn't feel the same way because she _did_. Rather, it was because she simply didn't know how to reciprocate. Try as she might, she still couldn't do much more than holding Peeta's hand in public without feeling uncomfortable. Not to mention, words had always been a weak point for her.

But then, she realized, she didn't have to reciprocate. She knew how she felt. Peeta knew how she felt. In the end, that was all that mattered anyway.

She allowed herself another few minutes wrapped in Peeta, embraced, cocooned in the warmth of her boyfriend and her blankets before forcing herself to pull her legs to the side of the bed, hauling her body up.

Peeta made a whining noise of disapproval, but when she reminded him of the time, he followed her lead, running a hand through his unruly curls as he rose. She walked around her small bed that they had managed to cuddle in, and rose on her tip-toes once more to kiss Peeta, tugging at the strands of his hair that skimmed the nape of his neck in the process.

"You need a haircut," she told him, kissing the tip of his ear before trekking to the other side of her room, collecting her clothes before heading into the shower.

When she walked out twenty minutes later, clad in a red flannel shirt that she knew both her sister and Johanna would approve of and her usual jeans and converse, she found her bed already made up, a delicious smell wafting through her small house.

She padded down the hallway, the wood under her feet creaking with each step. She passed her mother's room – the door was open, her bed was made. She was already at work. Katniss had realized, after coming back from Cedar Point, that although some things could change – people could grow, they could change, they could become better, like she did – some people simply couldn't. Some couldn't change, couldn't overcome the grief that swallowed their life. Her mother was one of those people, and Katniss was beginning to understand that maybe her mother couldn't even help herself anymore. She simply didn't have it in her. Katniss was starting to not begrudge her for that – but it was a long road, and Katniss had just started the journey.

She walked into the kitchen, the smell of something sweet leaving her stomach rumbling with hunger. If Peeta noticed the violent, audible churns of her stomach, he didn't show it. He was used to it, Katniss thought. She was pretty much always hungry and he'd seen her devour a plate of cheese-buns the last time he visited, almost all by herself.

She crept up behind him, loving the way his tall frame looked in her tiny kitchen. He had to bend down to keep himself from hitting the rusting range hood that hovered over the stove.

Her hand rested between his shoulder blades as she peeked over his shoulder, trying to get a glimpse at her breakfast, but he shifted his shoulders, effectively blocking her view.

"You know the rule," he said, a chuckle in her voice and she grumbled as she walked back to her seat, grabbing juice from the fridge as she went.

It still amazed her, every time she opened her fridge, how you could find trust and stability and love in the most unexpected people. Her fridge now often was stocked completely, holding more food than Katniss had seen in it since her father died, and she had Haymitch to thank for it.

It had surprised her, when her uncle had offered to drive the girls home at the end of their summer together. It had surprised her even more, though, was the look of outrage as he marched through the house, inspecting every little bit – including their kitchen. A short few days later, a check came in the mail from Haymitch, covering the cost of enough groceries for at least three months.

When Katniss called him, telling him that she couldn't, she really _couldn't_ accept his money, he told her she had no choice in this. It wasn't for her _sweetheart_, it was for Prim. And Katniss knew she couldn't deny her sister that.

As the last of apple juice made its way down her throat, Peeta placed a plate in front of her, scrambled eggs, strawberry pancakes and hashed potatoes. Her mouth salivated at just the sight. A second later, he placed a cupcake in front of her, a small candle lit in the middle.

She forked a bite of pancakes into her mouth before looking up at him, her eyebrow quirked.

Peeta looked sheepish as he nervously rubbed his neck, sitting down in the chair next to her.

"Happy four months."

She rolled her eyes at him, though she couldn't hide the smile stretching wide across her lips even if she tried. Abandoning her pancakes and eggs, she picked up the cupcake and swiped her finger along the icing before bringing it to Peeta's cheek, leaving a sticky white trail on his skin.

"You're such a cheeseball." She laughed, kissing him before blowing out the candle and pulling it out, her tongue diving into the vanilla frosting. She hummed a second later, the cream frosting all but melting on her tongue. "This is good!"

Peeta laughed, kissing the corner of her mouth, his tongue swirling around what she assumed was frosting that had smeared on her face. "And I should eat myself since you called me a cheeseball."

Her eyebrows shot up as she put a hand in front of the cupcake, pretending to steal it from his prying fingers, telling him that he wouldn't.

He relented; no, he wouldn't, and stood from his chair, his keys jingling loudly in his pocket. "Where are your and Prim's bags? I'm gonna load 'em into the car."

"In our room," she told him, but before he could start down the hall, her fingers caught his, a sheepish smile on her face as she asked for a kiss.

He laughed, leaning down as he obliged, his lips still a wonderful kind of sticky from the icing.

* * *

The ride to Gale's is a short one, not even a full ten minutes, but it takes almost twice as long to get Gale and Prim into the car, and somehow, it's Peeta who's to blame.

As soon as they got there and he had shifted the gear into park, Peeta was out the door, already heading towards little Posy who sat in the middle of the front yard playing with a bouncy ball almost twice her size. The curly haired toddler let out an excited squeal as Peeta approached her, thrusting her little, chubby arms in the air for him to hold.

Rory and Prim sat close by to her, their fingers tangled comfortably with each other's, though Katniss chose to ignore it. She knew her baby sister was growing up, could see as much – but she couldn't handle _that_. She wasn't quite sure she ever would be ready for that.

Her eyes trained just on Rory's face, Katniss asked the older boy where his brother was, and Rory jut his thumb towards the house. As she walked into the house, she could hear Peeta blowing raspberries on Posy's tummy, her loud, happy giggle following.

She walked into the house, stopping to hug hello to Gale's mother, Hazelle, before walking up the short flight of stairs to Gale's room. She entered without knocking and found Gale throwing clothes messily into a duffel bag, his cellphone wedged in the crook of the shoulder and face, a stupidly happy grin on his face.

Katniss jumped to the middle of his bed, comfortably crossing her legs before glaring at Gale. "Are you on the phone with Johanna?"

He whipped around from his closet, noticing Katniss for the first time. He ignored her questioning, and continued to chatter into the phone, but his unabashed smile told her all she needed to know.

It hadn't come to her as a complete shock when Johanna and Gale hit it off the first time they met when Gale joined her during one of her many weekends down in Cedar Point – they were similar in so many ways, it made sense. But it did shock her when he asked her to be his girlfriend only a month after meeting her. And it shocked her even more when Johanna, as picky and plain _bitchy_ as she was at times, had agreed.

"You're gonna see her in like, two hours. You can be gross and romantic then. Finish packing so we can go!"

Gale ignored Katniss' scolding tone, rolling his eyes at her playfully before ending the call a minute later, his voice silly and dreamlike as he told Johanna: "See you later, babe."

When she made her way back outside, Gale trailing behind her, she walked to Peeta, sprawled on the grass with Posy on his lap, helping her blow bubbles.

"You ready to go?"

He looked up at her, his expression pleading as he clutched Posy a little closer to him. "Five more minutes?"

She rolled her eyes before flopping down next to him. Damn those blue eyes.

Five minutes later, Peeta requested for five more, and before he could do it again, Katniss stood and shook his head, telling him that they were going to be late. Annie and Johanna were waiting on them for dinner.

He nodded, albeit reluctantly, and passed Posy to Rory, whose lips were suddenly plump.

As she headed towards the car, she noticed Gale giving Rory a congratulatory clasp on the back and waited until he was close behind her again to punch him in the arm.

"Ow, what was that for?"

"Don't encourage them about this …stuff."

Gale's mock grimace broke out into a real grin, "What, you mean kissing? Katniss, I think they're old enough …"

Katniss shook her head angrily. They weren't old enough. Her baby sister - her _little duck_ - would never be old enough.

She shot a glance in Prim's direction as the younger girl slid into the back seat of the car next to Gale, noticing that her cheeks were tinted pinks, her eyes cast downward. For some reason, she found comfort in the fact that at least, her sister was embarrassed.

* * *

The drive, although it's long, feels shorter each time Katniss takes it. She hadn't expected it – loving Cedar Point so much, loving the people there so much. But only a week after she got home, she got a call from Annie and Peeta, begging her to come down for the weekend. It didn't take much convincing and Peeta and Annie were waiting for her, their car already loaded with her and Prim's stuff by the time she got back from school.

It wasn't unusual, after that, to go down to Cedar Point for the weekends at random. Sometimes Peeta would come here to pick her up, other times Gale would join her for the weekend and drive the three of them there.

And it wasn't long before she fell completely in love with Cedar Point, either. It was sometime between when the leaves completely changed colors, painting the town in shades of reds and oranges, greens and browns and when the snowflakes, large and heavy, cast a blanket over the houses and the lakes, leaving the entire town coated in white dust. The summer, in Cedar Point, would always remind her of her own growth, of love and most importantly, of the fun she'd had. But the autumn and winter in Cedar Point reminded her of all those things and then a few more. It reminded her of warmth, and of stability, and of all the good that she wanted to believe in all along.

As Katniss stepped into the diner, the pungent scent of fried foods hit her, and she breathed it in, relishing in the smell she so often missed. As much as she hated working at the diner sometimes and having to deal with all the impatient, hungry people, she also missed it like crazy. She'd never had better co-workers than the ones she met here.

She slid into a booth, not bothering to wait to be seated. There were two new kids working here, both of them looking no older than sixteen and Katniss could just imagine the pure joy Johanna probably got from torturing the poor teens.

A second later, Prim and Peeta sidled up into the booth on either side of her, Gale's eyes lingering around the diner before he too fell into the booth.

Katniss turned to Peeta, wondering where their two friends were, but before she could ask him, she heard a loud, giggly squeal that could belong to only person.

"Katniss!" Annie's face was flushed, the material of her striped shirt stretching over her expanding belly as she waddled towards them, an empty tray in her hand. Prim was the first to run over to Annie, enveloping her in a hug before Katniss could even slide out of the booth.

Johanna face appeared from the behind the wooden counter in the kitchen just as they all slid back into the booth, trying to check out what the commotion was about. Her usual scowl turned into a grin as she spotted them, her eyes lingering on Gale's before she pulled the apron over her head, and busted through the kitchen door towards them.

"I'm on break!" she yelled out to no one in particular before sidling into Gale's lap. She didn't even bother to glance at the rest of the table before her lips attached to Gale's, her fingers combing his hair.

Katniss looked away, almost disgusted and Peeta chuckled beside her, squeezing her fingers with his under the table, looping his ankle around hers. _That_ was the kind of affection Katniss was comfortable with – the kind that no one could see. Not swallowing each other's faces whole like Johanna and Gale.

"Is anyone gonna come get our orders …?" Katniss wondered aloud, her stomach rumbling in accordance.

That caught Johanna's attention, and she snapped her head back from Gale's, her eyes suddenly scouring the diner. Her eyes landed on one of the new girl that worked her, and beckoned at her with her fingers. "Two! Come here."

Beside her, Katniss could feel Peeta shaking his head and Annie biting back a laugh as the girl, short and scrawny with a pale face and dark hair approached them shyly. Johanna didn't bother to ask the rest of the table, and just ordered five six burgers with fries. The girl barely nodded in acknowledgement before Johanna snapped again, telling her not to "just stand there, get on with it." Johanna waited another second before huffing, and calling for "One!" A tall, lanky boy appeared and Johanna barked at him to bring them drinks before attaching her lips to Gale's again.

Katniss couldn't hold it back, the incredulity evident in her voice. "Do you just call them 'one' and 'two'?"

Johanna pulled back from Gale's face slightly, and Gale threw Katniss a look of irritation that she ignored. She shrugged, "Yup. I haven't decided if I'm keeping 'em yet. If I do, I'll probably learn their names."

"Their names are actually Mason and Ava," Annie chimed, rolling her eyes at Johanna. "They're really sweet, actually." Peeta nodded in agreement, and only a few minutes later, One – _Mason _– brought around their drinks followed by Two – _Ava –_ who quietly set their plates of food on the table before slinking away.

Johanna slid into an actual seat as she dug into her burger, and Gale looked to Annie, his manners surfacing again as he made an attempt at conversation, asking Annie how she was feeling.

Annie smiled, "Pretty good. I saw my family over Christmas and since they've had some time to … digest things, they were pretty great about it all." She rubbed her belly, some of her smile falling as she added, "But um, I'm still thinking of giving the baby up. I'm meeting some potential families tomorrow, actually."

Katniss saw Peeta rest his hand over Annie's under the table, and Annie slightly leaned into him before swiping a french fry from his plate. "I just want what's best for him – I want him to grow up in a family like I did, not a broken one with no father."

"Him?" Katniss asked.

Annie nodded, "Yeah, it's not confirmed yet – my doctor will probably be able to make sure of it by the next appointment, but yeah … him."

Peeta pet Annie's hair, "We're proud of you, you know?" And Annie smiled at him, swiping another one of his fries.

Peeta was right though, Katniss was proud of her too. Beyond, actually. It wasn't easy to give up a baby – it couldn't be. Katniss could already tell, by the way her hand was always positioned at the top of her belly, at the way she rubbed it so lovingly, so affectionately that she already loved her baby more than anything. But she was doing what was best for _him_, her baby, not for her, and that proved her to be a better mother than most mothers Katniss knew. And Katniss couldn't be prouder.

As they all settled into a silence, their concentration lingering on Annie and her baby, Johanna smacked her lips loudly. "So, Haymitch said he had some news when I saw him earlier. Do you know what it's about?"

Katniss and Prim looked to each other before shaking their heads – they didn't know, but their uncle had mentioned something similar over the phone the night before. It almost sounded like something bad, his voice had dropped low as he spoke almost ominously. But lately, as he gave up alcohol, he had taken up smoking and Katniss couldn't be sure if the gruffness in his voice had just been exacerbated by that.

Six months ago, any sort of news or communication from her uncle would have been unheard of. Five months ago, she would have dreaded it, knowing only to expect the worst from her uncle. But now? She knew to trust him. She knew whatever it was – however bad or good – they would be okay. They would all be okay – together.

* * *

Haymitch looked happy – actually happy – smiling, his hair combed back slickly, his slacks and off-white button down pristine, without a single stain as he welcomed the small group into his house. As the rest the group piled into the living room and kitchen, Katniss crept towards the hallway, finding her and Prim's room – which, at this point, had officially become their room – and set her and her sister's bags on the bed. She walked to the bathroom, splashing water onto her face before stalking back into the kitchen.

She almost stopped in her tracks as she spotted a woman – tall and curvy, with flaming orange hair and skin so pale, so white like porcelain. She wore a red dress, the shade nearly matching her hair, and was leaning into Haymitch, their arms wound around each other.

When the woman's eyes, beautiful turquoise blue and set wide-apart on her face, settled on Katniss, her shimmering glossy lips broke into large smile as if she had just spotted an old friend, not the niece of her boyfriend – if that was what Haymitch was to her.

"You must be Katniss!" She neared her, and Katniss could see Haymitch's lips set in a wicked grin behind her. "I've heard so much about you! I'm Effie."

Katniss stuck her hand out to shake hers, but Effie ignored it, leaning in for a tight squeeze. "It's is so nice to meet you!" Katniss exchanged pleasantries with the woman, but her eyes kept flicking back to her uncle who seemed to be deep in conversation with Peeta. She couldn't wrap her head around this –around her uncle and Effie. She hadn't visited in only three weeks, how had this even happened? Had Peeta known about this? She'd have to prod him about this later.

As soon as Katniss was beginning to think she might have to pretend to faint to get out of conversation with the banal woman, Peeta's arm locked around her waist, and he excused them from Effie.

They weren't even out of Effie's ear-shot before Katniss whispered, probably too loudly, in Peeta's ear, "Did you know about this?"

Peeta looked genuinely confused as he asked, "About what?"

"Effie." Katniss hissed, and a smile registered in Peeta's eyes as he nodded.

"I know what you're thinking," he added a second later, "but she's really not that bad. She's actually pretty amazing. She's been good for Haymitch."

Katniss' lips pursed as she thought that over, and when she didn't say more, Peeta added, "She's his new editor, just moved here from New York."

Well, maybe that could explain her appearance and her accent. But … how she fit with her uncle, Katniss still couldn't fathom.

A moment later, Haymitch pulled out three bottles of sparkling apple juice from the fridge, filling eight champagne glasses to the rim before gesturing at them all to take one. Peeta brought Katniss a glass of the bubbling juice, his arm wrapping around her middle as he stood behind her.

Effie clinked a spoon against her glass, waiting until she had her small audience's attention before she cleared her throat to speak, "Okay, everyone. Haymitch has some big, big news for us!"

Katniss rolled her eyes, and could feel Peeta chuckling behind her, his body shaking slightly against hers. She shook her head and looked back towards Effie, and could tell it was taking the woman great restraint to keep from spilling the beans about the "big, big news" right then and there, but she gestured towards Haymitch who awkwardly nodded his head, clearing his own throat. "I've finished my next novel."

Before he could say anything, both Annie and Prim erupted into a giggly fit of 'congratulations', and Peeta let out a happy whoop.

Her uncle just looked embarrassed as he wiped his hand over his face, "I just … I wanted to thank you guys. You know … for uh, everything." Her uncle was looking at Peeta as he said the words, and Peeta smiled widely, happily.

Her uncle raised his champagne glass slightly, "To…" Haymitch paused, trying to think of what to toast and Katniss found it ironic that her uncle, a writer, so often was befuddled when it came to speaking the words out loud.

"To family," Peeta said from behind her, the vibration of his voice resonating in her chest. Haymitch gave him thankful look as he nodded, gruffly repeating, "To family."

"And to getting happy, and _staying _happy," Annie added a second later before they all took a sip of their sparkling juice.

Peeta's nose grazed Katniss' cheek, and she turned her head to allow a kiss, short and sweet, before whispering in his ear, "Happy four months to you too, by the way."

_**fin.**_

* * *

_a/n: ahh, I can't believe it's over already! thank you guys SO much for making this such an amazing experience! I don't think i've ever loved writing anything as much as I did this, and it's because of your guys' continuous support and encouragement so thank you, thank you. I really, truly hope you are all satisfied with the ending!_

_also, a **massive** thank you to Leigh for editing this and being an amazing beta. seriously, thank you so, so much! you're amazing._

_I'm hoping to start up a new AU story soon, so be on the look out for that!_

_Until next time :)_


	12. NOTE

Hi guys! I am so sorry for the false alarm – there is no new chapter here – but I couldn't think of a better way to get in touch with you all. I just wanted to ask a huge, huge favor of you all: As I've mentioned before, the love of my life, my three year old niece Aliza has leukemia. This October, I'll be participating in the Light the Night walk for the Leukemia and Lymphoma society in NJ and I was wondering if any of you guys would be interested in donating a few bucks to TEAM ALIZA. Even one dollar can go a long way! You guys have been so incredibly supportive ever since we've found out and I couldn't think of any group better to ask.

This is our team page:  pages . lightthenight nj / Morris12 / TeamAliza

I'll also put the link in my profile page. I know I'm asking for a lot, so thank you guys so much for taking the time out to read and for donating.


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